


Hallelujah (phan AU)

by Planetninja



Category: Phandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Boys Kissing, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, Depressing, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Panic Attacks, Phan - Freeform, Phan Angst, Phan Fluff, Phanfiction, Royalty, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Songfic, Songs, YouTube, i love them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Planetninja/pseuds/Planetninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dan's father, the king of England, finds out that Dan has a boyfriend Dan becomes just a walking shell of the boy he used to be. Of the boy he is pretending to be. And then he meets Phil, the beautiful man who desperately tries to put color back into Dan's colorless world, to put life back into his existence, to show him what it means to be alive again. Which brings him to the unthinkable question; how does one bring stars into another's black sky?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the prologue

 

_Let me tell you a story of a boy as black as the starless sky. A boy who had lost all hope within him. A boy who had experienced more awful things as a kid than a normal person would see in a lifetime. A boy who saw everything in various shades of black, white, and gray and wasn't sure if his life was worth living at times. The same boy who was so far over the edge he wasn't sure if he would be able to pull himself up anymore. That was, until a thread wrapped around his wrists, tangled in his hands, drawing closer and closer to his heart. It kept him from falling until finally it pulled this boy back up, lifted from the void of black and white and gray cliffs, and showed him the love of his life. It showed him his reason to live again, his color in his life. This new boy brought stars into the other's night sky with a single word that made the broken boy feel alive again. It made him remember what it was like to feel loved. To be in love. That single word that changed everything. Hallelujah._

  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :) this is my first fic so please enjoy. have a nice day <3


	2. Well I heard there was a secret chord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I love you"  
> "why the fuck you lying"

Everything can seem so perfect. Life can seem to finally be going your way and you can ultimately be happy. And everything is great for a while. The world feels amazing, wonderful, full of color. And then the universe decides you’ve had enough happiness. It decides that it will violently rip the things you love most away from you until you’ve forgotten what love actually feels like. It leaves you stumbling in the dark, unable to see, unable to breathe, unable to feel because everything is gone. All that you’ve ever known has disappeared. And for a while you will grieve. You will grieve about all the things you have lost. But that isn’t even the worst part. It’s what comes after the grief that really kills you. It’s the hatred that nurtures you when you feel the heartbreaking pain. It wraps it’s arms around you when you can’t sleep because of the agonizing memories. And then the pain gets replaced. Numbness invades your body instead. It keeps going until the only thing left inside you is the unbearable emptiness, fear, and self-hatred. And the color slowly drains from your life, days blend together, things are gradually wasting away. The crazy part is that everything looks the same, everyone acts the same, and no one realizes that your world has just slipped from underneath your feet and left you hanging upside-down in alternate universe. But it isn’t an alternate universe. It is just the world for how it truly is, no longer painted with joy. No one comments or says anything about the circles around your eyes or the long sleeves in the hot weather. They pretend everything is fine, that everything is still right and nothing has changed. And nothing has changed. Except for the fact that in this world, he is no longer here. In this world there is no one to stop the pain, and the emptiness and the hatred. So you learn to cope, you learn how to put on your mask and hide your emotions from the world. Why, you may ask? Because this entire world that the universe has plopped you in are lies. Nothing but fake smiles to hide behind and deceiving words whispered through lips. But you will keep going, because, what else can you do?

That was how Daniel Howell’s world had turned out to be ever since that horrible day. Ever since the day that his father had found out about him. In this world there was a law, a law that King Howell himself had placed, telling the entire country of England that being gay made you a sinner. A horrible disgrace to all mankind. It stated that all gay people were to be caught and taken to jail or shot on sight if they tried to disobey. And if you hid, he said, they would come and find you to clean this tarnished world.

Ironically, Dan had supported these movements. He had vouched for them because he knew no other opinion than his father’s, and his father was a good man, always trying to do the best for his country. Dan had followed his father’s footsteps in every way shape or form. He had idoled the guy so much it was almost scary.

That was, until he’d met Cameron. Something about the boy’s sad eyes had caught his attention. This world was perfect, Dan had thought, his father had said so. So what reason did this sixteen year old boy have to be so sad?

Dan hadn’t let this sad-eyed boy go, and because of that, Cameron had taught Dan how the world truly was. He’d showed him the good things, and the bad things, the things to live for, and the ones to die for, the color in life, and the black, white, and gray, and in those moments Dan Howell was finally happy. He’d known his purpose in life; he’d understood his reason for being on this earth.

Slowly, Dan had stopped listening to his father’s words. He no longer had believed that being gay was wrong, and questioned why his father despised people who liked the same gender so much. Love was love after all, and it had never been a choice.

One day after Dan had told Cameron that he loved him, Dan had gone up to his father and asked him why he hated the gay people of his country, being gay wasn’t that bad after all? Dan had thought that as the question was blurted from his mouth. The king had turned slowly to his son and told him, the disgust clear in his voice, his eyes hardening.

“To be gay, well that is one of the worst crimes you could commit. It would put you at the level of defying God. You would be worse than Lucifer himself. Liking another gender is not natural, Daniel, it makes you dangerous, horrible, and worth less than the dirt at the bottom of my feet.”

But Dan had been confused by his response. How could gay people be dangerous? They were just people after all. What he didn’t know, at least not yet, is that all people were dangerous; they just embodied different kinds of it.

After that, Dan’s father had become increasingly suspicious of Dan. He had noticed him zoning off during his lectures, and adverting his eyes when they dragged away an accused somebody screaming.

On that accursed day, it was the first time Dan’s father had seen Dan and Cameron together. It had been a mere pass by; Cameron had knocked into Dan while the king’s son was walking with the king. Dan had put a fairly annoyed expression on his face, masking his emotions pretty well. Yet, as Dan’s father looked into the eyes of the other boy, he saw something there. A spark. A glitter of affection. And suddenly it was as if the love for his son was flashing through the boy’s eyes like a neon sign. The king turned away, disgusted, just to come face to face with his own boy. Unfortunately for him, he was even more surprised to find the same look as the boy, reflected in his son’s eyes. The admiration and love for each other had mixed in his eyes while his face remained grave.

And then Dan’s father had lost it. He had grabbed both of them, dragging them down to the basements by their arms. What had happened that night, Dan never wanted to speak about again. Only one of them had come out of the dark dungeons and it was Dan’s fault they had gone in the first place. It was all his fault that they had gotten caught. And he would never forgive himself.

Dan then had started to live in a world of darkness. He had sunk himself into the depths of black, drowning in his own despair, sinking in the hole he had created. And the saddest part was, that there was no one there to stop him from slipping into that sea of self-hatred.

Dan had now gotten almost daily beatings from his own father after he had found out. Why doesn’t he just kill him, others might ask? Well, the King would have to explain everything if his son died, and it would dishonor their family name; the King would be laughed upon. And God forbid for the world to have that. So instead David Howell took his anger out on his son, using him as a punching bag whenever he had the opportunity. He called him horrible names, and made him bleed until his skin was screaming in places no one else would see.

Dan had learned to live in fear of his father. Gone, was the man that had loved him and spoiled him as a child. Here, was the new King, the one most of the society of England probably had a view of.

See here, most of the country actually did not agree with Dan’s father, but they were too scared to speak of it. Besides if they did, what difference would they make? He was the king after all…

Nothing major had happened to the fifteen-year-old boy, since the “incident”. Except probably for the fact that Dan spent the next two birthdays crying in his room until he couldn’t cry anymore. He was now seventeen years old, his birthday about seven months from now, and he couldn’t wait to get out of this hellhole he called a home. He was pretty sure his father would stage some horrific “accident” for him once he hit eighteen so he wouldn’t inherit the throne. Dan had started to even count down the days, reminding himself to live for just a little bit longer when all things go downhill just so the minute he turns the magic number, he can leave.

That was the thing that Dan wanted most in the world. To leave his life behind.

But every time he tried to forget his life, it always found some way to come back to remind him. So he lost himself in music, in books, and mostly in the piano. He never played it when his dad was around or home but every time his father had left he took large comfort in escaping through the notes of the beautiful instrument. Sometimes, he thought if he could lose himself in the music far enough the notes would take him and fly away from this place, but of course that was just a thought. Dan Howell was stuck here until he turned eighteen.

In the distance, Dan heard the front door shut with a resounding bang, followed by a series of footsteps.

“Shit.” he muttered to himself. His father had just gotten home, and judging by the sound of the door, he didn’t sound all too happy. With that thought Dan slowly realized that he had to get out.

He had to go before he came upstairs, before the man beat him senseless.

Dan cussed again, grabbing his black backpack and shoving it with various items. He brought everything he thought he would need in a few hours with him, planning to spend almost the entire night away from the man of his nightmares.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to come home until his father was asleep, not unless he wanted a few extra scars down his back, ones he was bound to get sooner or later this week. Dan didn’t know where to go, he didn’t have anywhere to run to, but Dan had to leave. After his father came up to his room, he would be safer in another universe than this house.

The King’s loud footsteps, currently marching down the corridor, snapped Dan out of his daze. He threw on his favorite black hoodie (practically everything he owned was black) and put it over his head, quickly slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

Dan’s father’s footsteps came closer with every second and Dan slid into his matching sneakers, hopping from foot to foot. To anyone watching, he probably looked like a dancing chicken, but at the moment Dan couldn’t bring himself to care. His father had almost reached the end of the hall.

He rushed over to the threshold, pulling the knob shut and locking it with a soft click. Dan had estimated that he probably had about forty-five seconds to scale the house and hide in the bushes before his father broke the door and looked out of the window.

Dan would barely make it.

Stupid unreasonably giant house.

The brown-haired boy jimmied open the window, grimacing as his door handle forcefully shook. Dan took a deep breath, sucking in the cool November air between his teeth, at the same time he desperately tried to calm himself.

You can do this, Dan. Dan thought to himself. He slipped out onto the ledge, debating whether he should take the chance of waiting out on the roof. Dan looked up, then down, deciding against the roof option in seconds, his body slowly inching towards the ground. The King had found Dan on the roof before, and nothing was stopping him from doing it again.

As he climbed, Dan allowed himself to relax a little bit, his hands and feet falling into the familiar holds. Hiking downward, the pounding of his heart subsided slightly as he had realized he was only twelve feet up on the building. Dan had done this so many times; it was likely that he could do it blind folded.

Remember when you had done this with Cameron? Some small place in the boy’s mind asked, sending a sharp pain into his chest. Two years after his boyfriend’s death and his name still made the hole in Dan’s heart grow wider. When would it ever stop hurting? He thought to himself.

Dan jumped the remaining six feet off the ground and sprinted around the house, running towards the nearest bush. He ducked behind the green blob, panting hard, just as his father’s voice cried out, streaming a variety of cuss words.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his window closed with a loud click. The noise even made Dan smile; his father thought he was locking him out of the house, but the bolt on Dan’s window had been broken for years. It was one of the first things Cameron had done when they had started dating, incase he had needed a quick escape.

Dan painfully forced himself to stop thinking of his dead boyfriend, he needed to focus, and he needed to move. His father would check the roof next and if Dan stayed behind this lonely bush, he would definitely see him.

So, the boy put his hood over his head, checking to see if the coast was clear, and ran like his butt was on fire.

Once Dan had ran past the gates of their property the uneasiness in his stomach had vanished. No one looked twice at him and Dan blended in with the mass of people on the pavements.

Panting hard from the exercise once again, he put in his ear buds and shuffled through his music. After some serious scrolling, Dan came to a stop on This Is How I Disappear by My Chemical Romance, A band that not many people in his generation listened to. Yet, the song choice seemed appropriate, considering that the title basically described the young boy’s life.

Without further ado, he tuned his volume until it was practically all the way up. Dan shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt, lowering his head down even farther; desperately trying to become invisible on a semi-crowded street.

People would ask questions if they knew the King’s son was out and about. There would be reporters, shiny cameras, mobs of people, and a bunch of other crap halfway down the block.

The sun was starting to set, the clouds pink and orange against the bright blue sky.

Dan’s breath came out in wisps around his face, and he lost himself deep into his music, the words providing him a well-needed escape.

As he walked Dan let his eyes wander, searching people’s faces, trying to guess their stories, what they were doing, if they were straight or secretly gay. It was a method of distraction for Dan, a way for him to forget his past by thinking of others, even if it only lasted a few moments.

His eyes settled on a young girl sitting on the bench. She stared off into the distance longingly, her sleeves pulled way past her hands. Her eyes had a haunted, empty look permanently embedded into them: the look of losing someone.

Dan knew that look like it was his best friend.

Why?

Because every time he looked in a mirror he saw it reflected back in his eyes. Dan was surprised that no one had seen through his act, after all that he had been through. But in a world of fake smiles and painted faces, Dan guessed that everyone was lying about their own secrets. How would one more person make a difference?

Something hard elbowed him in his side, shoving Dan back into reality. He stumbled, nearly falling over, yet steadying himself on a bench at the last minute. Unfortunately, the boy he’d knocked into wasn’t as lucky. The stranger sat on the pavement, his bag partially opened.

“I’m so sorry,” the boy had started to say in a lilting northern accent. He frantically rammed the spilled items back into his sun yellow backpack. His voice was like honey, a heart-wrenchingly familiar sound, and his jet-black hair stood out against his purple hoodie.

Dan bent down; handing the black-haired boy stuff that fell out of his bag at random.  
“Here, let me help you with that.” Dan said, slipping out his ear buds and pausing his music in one fluid motion. The other boy shook his head: his cheeks going slightly pink.

“No, its fine, I’m fine. I’m just really clumsy. I-” He looked up, cutting himself off and meeting Dan’s eyes, and Dan’s heart almost stopped. His head swam, eternity seeming to pass in minutes.

Cameron. It’s Cameron. That was the first coherent thought Dan had. He shook his head: that was impossible. Cameron was dead. Dan had watched him die. His father had killed him. He’d practically killed him.

No, this boy wasn’t Cameron, it couldn’t be Cameron, but his eyes were the exact same shade as Dan’s boyfriend’s once were. The same colour of striking blue, bright and sparkling.

The blue-eyed boy’s face fell. “Oh.” He said, anger hardening in his amazingly beautiful eyes, the disgust clearly visible in his voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

Shit. Dan thought. This kid had recognized him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and leave kudos! They are my life.


	3. That David played and it pleased the Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I came here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now"

The boy looked back down, putting the stuff back in his bag with a little more force. The other’s actions were jerky, his hands faintly shaking.

Normally, Dan would of just walked away right there, left this guy on the ground and prayed that he would never encounter him again. But this boy not liking Dan had stopped him. Why was this stranger suddenly mad at Dan? Had he offended something to him?

It wasn’t that surprising that this happened, Dan reckoned, so many people do hate him already for no reason. Why would one more person matter?

Dan was most likely over thinking this, but the blue-eyed boy had looked at Dan like he had personally done something to him, like Dan had just killed his puppy in front of him. The expression of disgusted clearly evident in his face.

“Do I look like Shrek to you or something?” Dan raised his eyebrows. By the way the boy was staring at him, he had looked like one of the villagers from the “classic” movie, all he needed was some fire and a pitchfork.

The kid shot Dan a glare sharp enough to cut glass, clearly not appreciating his sarcastic remark.

“Wow, who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” Dan continued, crossing his arms. As broken as he might be, Dan Howell still had the ability to be a sassy son-of-a-bitch when he encountered another human being. What could he say? Old habits do die-hard.

The boy glanced upward again, staring at Dan with a hatred that surprised him. What had made this boy so angry with me? Who had done this to him? Dan wondered quietly.

“Alright,” Dan said putting his hands up in surrender and standing up slowly. “Don’t even know what I did, but I’m sorry to ruin your day with my face.” he muttered, sliding a hand underneath his own backpack strap.

The boy took a deep breath, continuing to toss stuff into his bag in silence, his teeth clenched. Yet, Dan still stayed put, something stopping him from walking off. As he waited for the stranger to reply, he kept nudging miscellaneous objects with his foot toward the boy. After a minute the kid sighed, noticing that the other boy hadn’t given up and walked away.

“Aren’t you like the biggest anti-gay supporter there is? Other than your father, of course.” He said finally, sounding out each and every word like he was explaining something to a five year old.

Dan laughed dryly. _That was his problem with me?_

  
“If only.” Dan grunted, almost choking on the sudden pain that was stabbing his heart. He had lost everything because he was gay, because that was a horrible thing to be, because if you were gay you should automatically die.

The other boy stood up, jiggling the zipper on his backpack shut, and he turned to Dan with a confused look replacing the anger in his sky blue eyes.

Damn it. Dan thought. He’d said too much.

“I-I’m sorry. Never mind, I-I should go.” Dan stammered, his eyes blurring, the sarcasm gone from his voice. He blinked vigorously, hoping that not tears would come. Dan had to go. He had to leave before he started crying like a baby.

“Sorry for bumping into you.” Dan said trying to sidestep the stranger while wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his jacket. Pull yourself together! He thought to himself angrily.

The jet-black haired boy stopped Dan with his hand on Dan’s shoulder, which made the brown-haired boy’s heart stutter violently. Dan felt his cheeks go red.

“Wait,” the teenager said, his voice softening, like he actually cared. “What’s wrong?”

How could he go from fuming with Dan to caring in less than a second?

Dan could feel the heat radiating from his hand through his jacket, and his face involuntarily went a darker shade of red.

Dan turned around, unexpectedly angry.

“What’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Nope everything’s fine.” He started, taking a deep breath and looking at this boy square in the eye.

“Except for the fact that I don’t even know you and you automatically hate me, the world is fine.” Dan blurted and the stranger in front of him blinked slowly, processing his words. He knew he should leave now, that he should of stopped his blabbering and gone somewhere where he could forget himself for a little while. Somewhere where he could drink away his pain and let the lines of the world blur together into one great smudge, yet, his mouth didn’t stop and his feet didn’t move.

“But, no that’s okay, why should you even care about my feelings, because you know my father right? And that means we’re exactly the same person with the same interests and the same opinions.” Dan ranted, the wall in his heart cracking. The sentences jumbled out of his mouth at a high speed.

“And yeah, so I bump into you and I try to help you pick up the stuff you dropped. I try to be a nice person and a regular civilian. But then you see my face and look at me like I am Shrek and you’re an angry villager and on top of that I just personally murdered your puppy in front of you. Like wow that’s a lot of hatred. And then you assume that I hate all gay people and wish that they would all die brutally, and you don’t even know me.”

Dan didn’t even really care about the other people on the street anymore, or what they thought of him right now. The water was flowing from the dam in his chest and he was going to let it crash. Completely. On this poor kid that didn’t deserve to deal with his bottled up emotions and his stupid rants.

“And now when I just want walk away and stop bothering you, you turn into a completely different person, asking me ‘what’s wrong’ but you don’t even care because you hate me, right? Because I didn’t even touch you, and suddenly you want to murder me. Because my father and I are the same fucking person.”

Dan’s voice shook with silent anger. “Right?”

For a moment Dan was proud of himself, for not walking away, for letting out the feelings shoved deep down.

But, it didn’t last long. The boy’s face fell in shame and the brown-haired boy immediately wished that he could take all the words back.

Dan ran a hand through his hair, looking back at the kid, whose name he didn’t even know.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said again, looking away from him, his voice defeated. “ That was rude, I shouldn’t have said anything.” The boy took a step back, realizing what he had done.

“Have a nice day.” Dan wanted to sprint down the street.

The other boy remained silent and Dan continued to walk away, forcing himself to not run away in humiliation of the scene he had probably just caused.

“Wait,” The other boy called out quietly, stopping Dan in his tracks for a second time.

“What’s your name again?” He asked the shame clouding his voice like thick fog.  
Dan turned around, confused. He didn’t hate him?

“Why do you care?” Dan quietly deadpanned, the energy leaving him.

The guilt was plain in the stranger’s eyes as they met Dan’s once again.

“You were right, I don’t even know you. I’m sorry. I was being stupid. I shouldn’t have assumed anything about you.” He said, the honesty of the words ringing in his tone. His reaction had Dan taken aback. Dan hadn’t expected him to apologize, and he immediately felt like the biggest dick ever.

“No, it was my fault-” Dan started to say before they blue-eyed boy cut him off.

“Don’t. This was all me. I get that now. Just leave it be.” He told Dan.

A moment of silence passed between them once again, and Dan studied the other boy’s face. His hair was impossibly black, his eyes still sparkling. His jet-black fringe fell adorably over right eye, his cheekbones were beautifully high, and his thick lashes casted shadows on his cheeks, his jaw line looking like it could cut glass.  
God, he was handsome.

“Dan.” Dan finally said, using the nickname only Cameron had given him.

The stranger nodded, a small smile played out on his lips.

“What’s yours?” Dan asked, tugging the hem of his sweatshirt over his fingers.

“Phil.” he answered. “Phil Lester.” He took a step towards Dan, so that his lips were almost next to Dan’s ear.

“And in case you were wondering, the answer to your question is yes, Dan” he said quietly. “You do look like Shrek to me.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Lucky for you, my favorite song from the movie is Hallelujah.”

Dan raised his eyebrows, an effortless smile now pulling at his own mouth as he quickly forgot the argument they had just had moments before. “Is that so?” he asked, eyeing Phil sideways. It was surprising to Dan how quickly he had smiled after so long of not doing it. He had almost though he had forgotten how. Plus, it felt nice to not force a reaction. “I’m glad I look like a hideous monster to you.” Dan smirked, continuing with what he was saying, yet the slightest twinge of hurt coloured his voice.

Phil stared at the other boy, the unwavering smile still planted on his face. “We’re all monsters on the inside, Dan. The only difference is that some of us just have a little more light than others.”

Dan blinked slowly. “Sure, sure.” He forged a chuckle, hoping that Phil wouldn’t notice as he tried to brush off the other boy’s words. Yet the meaning behind them still stayed inside of Dan’s head, forever burying itself in the deep crevices of his violent mind. If what Phil said was true, then Dan was like a black hole, a dark churning ocean before a storm, a starless sky. The poor boy had no more light left in him, and he wasn’t sure if he would find anymore. Cameron had taken it all when he had died that night. But Dan wasn’t going to tell Phil that.

“That still doesn’t make up for that fact you called me an ugly beast.” Dan joked, his act slipping slightly.

Phil glanced at the other boy, the smile gone from his lips, but his eyes dancing brightly. “You’re beautiful, Dan.” he said without hesitation, causing Dan’s cheeks to flare up.

Stepping backwards after a moments faltering from Dan’s behalf, Phil grinned yet again. “Are you happy now?” he asked him. “Is your ego no longer hurt?” he teased.

Dan broke his eye contact with Phil, ducking his head in a nod, still blushing fiercely. The last person to call him beautiful had been Cameron, pausing at some point between kisses to tell him this information. His boyfriend had said it with such certainty, like nothing would ever be able to convince him otherwise. And Dan had repeated it back to him, with no less enthusiasm. A few hours later, one of them was forever broken, almost beyond repair, and the other was dead. Now, Phil was saying it to him, as an apology, but the truth in his voice rang clear like a bell. The boy had meant what he’d said.

After a few seconds of standing there, Dan asked: “You want to walk?” gesturing down the street with his hands.

“Sure.” Phil smiled, coaxing a grin out of the brown-haired boy.

Taking a few steps forward, Dan pulled out his phone, unplugging his ear buds to give Phil all of his attention. Dan’s music app was still up, filled to the brim with all different kinds of music and Phil grabbed Dan’s wrist when he saw it. Dan’s heart lurched in fear, as he flinched slightly away from the touch. The other boy’s nimble fingers closed around Dan’s skinny wrist, effectively preventing his hand from moving. Phil wasn’t hurting him, not physically anyway, but Dan’s father had made sure that his son would know to fear other people’s hands, causing Dan to constantly recoil whenever anyone came to close in contact.

“Ooh! What song?” Phil asked, either oblivious to Dan’s reaction or deciding to not question it. He had moved around to the side of Dan, now peering over the other boy’s shoulder, his hand still on his arm.

“Uh um…” Dan stammered slightly, trying to rid himself of the panicking fog that was invading his brain. He wouldn’t have a panic attack in front of Phil, he told himself. That couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow that to happen. Trying to regain control of himself, he spoke: “You probably won’t know it.” Dan told him, focused on taking deep breaths. That’s all he needed to do. Breathe.

Phil’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Try me.” he said playfully, staring at Dan.

But Dan couldn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off the hands that were enclosed around his arm. His heart stuttered violently, and not in a good way. What if Phil- Phil could- The boy tried to take a deep breath, desperately chanting that Phil wasn’t going to hurt him in his head. He wanted some part of him to believe it, to keep from embarrassing himself in front of this stranger (friend?).

Dan stammered again, the fog making his brain blank, his lungs forgetting how to work properly, his thoughts still circulating around the fact that Phil’s hands were on his arm and his wrist was in control of another person and if Phil just squeezed a little harder he could possibly shatter his wrist and that he was in close proximity with another person and Phil wasn’t really Phil at all, it was just his father and this was all a drug induced dream that his father had given him and Phil was now going to shatter his bones and make him scream until he couldn’t stop and make Dan wish that he had never been born and hope that he could die fast in that moment and crave to-

And suddenly the pressure on his arm was gone.

Phil stood off to the left of Dan, both hands hanging limply at his sides. His expression had turned into a worried one, and he opened his mouth, closing it a few times before actually speaking.

“Are you alright?” he asked kindly, his eyebrows furrowed together.

Dan’s breathing, which had been critically unstable a few seconds a go, slowed a considerable measure. He blinked vigorously, trying to get the haze out of his eyes as he took the moment to suck the air into his lungs.

“Yes,” Dan said a little breathlessly. “I’m okay.” He gave Phil another (fake) smile, that he hoped wasn’t too obvious.

“Are you sure?” Phil persisted, “You seemed a little…” he paused, searching for the right words “out of it.”

Dan smiled again, the expression fake, yet he was faintly touched by the fact Phil cared enough to keep asking. “I’m okay,” he repeated, as Phil looked at him with a somewhat doubtful expression.

“Honestly, I’m good now.” The boy said again. It wasn’t a lie, Dan was better as of right now, but he wasn’t ready to give away his secrets to this stranger just yet.

“Anyway,” Dan continued, trying to get out of this situation before Phil had too many questions. “The song is Bliss by Muse.”

Phil shot him an unsure glance as Dan was speaking, before letting the subject drop and completely fangirling.

“Seriously?!” the other boy asked, the excitement evident in his eyes.

Dan nodded, unable to keep a smile off his face. “You listen to them?”

“I love that song!” Phil gushed, blushing slightly.

“Wait, you actually know them?” Dan asked, baffled. “You aren’t kidding with me right now?”

“Of course I know them!” Phil rolled his eyes. “How could I not know one of the best bands alive?!”

Dan couldn’t help it, he completely and utterly freaked as well, talking a million miles a minute and imitating Phil. “YES! Oh my god, I love them! I wish they all had more songs!”

Phil grinned, joining in on Dan’s excitement.

“What about Fall Out Boy?” He questioned, and Dan nodded eagerly.

“My Chemical Romance? Panic! At The Disco?”

“Basically all the early 2000’s alternative bands.” Dan responded.

Phil smiled sheepishly. “Hey, you like Muse, I like Muse, let’s be friends.” He glanced at the brown-haired boy, spreading his hands.

“Done.”

Dan plugged his headphones back in, holding out an ear bud in Phil’s direction. He took it, switching to the left side of Dan, and they started walking music blasting in their ears.

Enjoying Muse, they walked in silence, both of them completely lost in the sound of one of their favourite songs. Dan looked over at Phil, whose blue eyes shined with, ironically, bliss, and Dan felt a compelling urge to laugh, just because. It had been so long since Dan had done anything with someone, forever since he had gone outside, hung out, talked about himself. Dan had spent the last two years locked away in a cage he called his home. He hadn’t thought that he had actually smiled in a good six months, really laughed in two years.

And, now, that Dan was being a normal teenager, just listening to music with another guy, it was too goddamn weird. Impossible. Unattainable for Daniel James Howell, the King’s son.

He was supposed to be a disgrace to mankind, and he was, in his father’s eyes. But doing something so normal had thrown him off track. It had been so long, too long, and Dan was so used to hiding himself now, living in the shadow of the boy he was supposed to be, he found out it was hard to come out of the shell he had built for himself. Half of him wanted to run away screaming, while the other half wanted to laugh until he cried because this was the first real feeling he had felt in years. The first real emotion.

But something stayed lodged in his throat, holding back the laughter. That something warned him to not do this, to not get involved with Phil Lester. It kept saying that Dan would hurt him, or that Phil would leave after getting to know him.

After seeing Dan for the monster he was. For how dark his mind really was.

It told Dan that he would just bring himself a world of pain that he didn’t need to drag another person into his tortured life.

But Dan pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He focused on the present, he convinced himself to let him have a break just for today, telling his mind to allow him to be a normal seventeen-year-old boy for a couple hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this, seriously. Don't forget to comment and kudo if you want more!


	4. But you don't really care for music, do you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get to know each other.

Weirdly, the next song that came on was one that the two boys had been speaking earlier of. Out of Dan’s entire four hundred song playlist, his phone had chosen this one. It was the one and only Hallelujah. From Shrek.

Dan laughed out loud at the strangeness of it, meeting Phil’s gaze to find him smiling as well.

“You want me to skip it?” Dan asked, hovering his finger over the button.

Phil shook his head. “Nah let it play,” he said, smiling. “I told you, I like this song.”

Dan smiled back, locking his phone. “Better than Muse?”

Phil paused, his eyes lingering on something in the distance for a spilt second.

“Better than Muse.” he finally said.

“Um I’m sorry I don’t think that is possible, Phil.”

The other boy’s eyes twanged in sadness as the first words were sung. He shook his head, not saying anything and looking at the ground.

“I see.” Dan responded to his actions. “Someday, Philip Lester, you will explain to me why this song is better than Muse.”

“Maybe someday.” Phil mumbled before quickly returning to the quiet.

The two of them walked in silence, lost in the heartfelt tone of the song. It was really uncanny that it was playing…

Out of the blue, Dan’s ear bud was yanked viciously from and he made a noise in the back of his throat, stopping and turning his head.

“Hey! Why’d you-” Dan cut himself off as he saw Phil sprawled across a bench, his face red from embarrassment. Phil’s eyes met Dan’s, and for the first time in forever, Dan snorted.

Phil’s face went a darker shade of red, and Dan barely managed to regain control over his mouth. It just felt so good to laugh.

“Well that’s karma for you, kids.” Dan said, putting a hand over his mouth to stifle another giggle. “This is the exact reason why you don’t tell people that they look like Shrek. Then you’ll end up listening to songs from the movie and face planting.” he said, a chuckle escaping from his lips.

Phil gave a slightly forced laugh, clearly mortified, and Dan nearly choked (again) on trying to hold back laughter.

Phil groaned. “Seriously, this is something that could only happen to me!” Phil whined, the redness still bright in his cheeks. Yet, a smile pulled at the other boy’s lips. He supposed it was pretty funny.

Dan offered out a hand to Phil, and he took it, hoisting himself up, and drawing out his eyes on Dan for a second too long. Dropping the embarrassed boy’s hand as if it was on fire after he was on his feet, Dan lifted up his ear buds from the ground.

Phil looked at Dan, blushing hard, as he fidgeted his hands, his fingers twittering over his sleeves.

His face broke Dan again, and this time the King’s son couldn’t stop the laughter coming from his mouth.

“Wow,” Dan snickered. “That bench did look pretty lonely, Phil, but I didn’t think you needed to fall in its lap in front of everyone,” he said between breaths of mirth. “I mean, come on, there are children around. Control yourself.”

Phil cracked a smile, the red in his cheeks fading slightly.

“Shut up,” he giggled quietly. “It’s not my fault I’m as clumsy as a drunk kitten.” Phil swallowed thickly, laughter semi invading his voice. “Besides,” he said, “Who puts a bench in the middle of the freaking pavement? Obviously somebody is going to trip on it.”

Dan grinned, shaking his head. “It’s a simple process called watching where you are going, Philip. You should try it sometime.”

“Look who’s talking!” he retorted. “You were the one who bumped into me in the first place!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

A comfortable silence fell over the two boys, lasting for a few seconds in the evening before Dan spoke again.

“Phil, you do realize that this means in some countries, you are probably engaged to this bench, right?”

The black haired boy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Dan.” he said, tugging his sleeves down over his fingers. The blush was now barely evident in his face.

“Will you invite me to your wedding?” Dan said, continuing to talk and, batting his eyelashes innocently. Phil snorted, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

“I could be your best man,” Dan bribed, wigging his own eyebrows up and down. He eyed the bench lovingly. “She’ll be such a lucky woman.”

Phil’s face broke into a smile; unable to refrain from laughing at what Dan was doing.

“Oh!” Dan said loudly, “I almost forgot, you two can’t plan a wedding with out a ship name! What ever would you put on the invitations?” he pointed out. “So, what will it be, Phil, do you prefer Bil or Phench?”

Phil let out a noisy huff of held back laughter, glancing at the other boy sideways, and Dan’s face broke into a wide grin. The boy stared him down, looking straight into his bright blue eyes. Seconds ticked by, the both of them locked into a silent staring contest. After what seemed like hours, Phil rolled his eyes, looking down the street.

“Come on, Daniel. Lets go before being sexually attracted to benches’ is a crime.” He smiled, reaching for the ear buds in Dan’s hands as Dan silently cringed at the use of his full name. The name that only his father used. The name of the fake boy he was supposed to be used. The name of-

No, he wouldn’t go into that now.

Phil smiled again, his expression dancing playfully. He grabbed the white headphones in one surprisingly swift motion.

“Hey!” Dan said. “Give those back!” he lunged forward.

Phil sidestepped him, dangling the ear buds in the air, leaving Dan to awkwardly stumble across the pavement, trying not to fall.

“Come and get them.” The other boy teased, getting ready to sprint down the street. Dan groaned, realizing that this was going to actually require physical exercise. Funny enough, scaling the side of a house was no problem for Dan, but when it came to using his legs to run, he’d rather die. Honestly, why was running even a thing?

“You want me to exercise, Lester?” he groaned again. “You can’t expect this from me already. We just met!”

Phil smiled, inching away with the other boy’s headphones. “It will be fun.” Phil said, “I want to see you run like a little girl, Howell.” he smirked.

“Please Phil, I’m begging you, don’t make me do this.” Phil stared at Dan for a moment, their gazes connecting in the midst of the street, the brightness of it all almost blinding Dan. And Dan thought for a second that Phil was actually going to give in, to not take off sprinting down the street. And for a moment he believed his assumptions. Yet, Dan was wrong, and his silent prayers hadn’t been answered due to the cloud of dust remaining where Phil had once been standing.

“That little shi-“ Dan mumbled, cutting himself off. But, he smiled. He had to admit, it was kind of adorable that Phil had stolen his headphones.

With a deep gulp of air in his lungs, Dan followed Phil. It seemed like Dan would be forced to exercise if he wanted to get his ear buds back.

His muscles screamed with effort as he ran, his back aching in pain. He prayed that none of the fresher wounds would split open, hoping to not go down that road with Phil.

Dan avoided people and lampposts on pavement, dodging others with some incredible amounts of skill he didn’t know he had.

Phil’s head bobbed in and out of the sea of humans in front of Dan. He dived into the crowd in a desperate search for a tall boy with white headphones in his hands. The boy scanned the mob carefully, the throng pushing and shoving him slowly towards the town square. The area was built near the King’s house for tourists who wanted to see the palace from the outside.

Although, a person could not see the actual building from the shopping place, it was considered a close enough plaza to be called the King’s Square.

Dan hadn’t minded this area before and he probably knew it like the back of his hand. He had spent countless of afternoons in the square, desperately searching for a way to escape his father. To forget his life. It was almost a nice, pleasant feeling for Dan to search for something else for a change.

Nearly no one ever looked twice at Dan in the Kings Square (something he preferred) and if they did, they stalked far, far away from him, avoiding the King’s son at all costs. Of course he had gotten the occasional brave tourist, walking up to him and asking for an autograph. In these situations he would rush away, pretending to have some extremely important business to take care of, and disappear out of sight for the next few hours.

Now, he followed Phil through the streets, tracking the other boy’s black mop of hair and cute fringe with his eyes. They had both slowed to a fast walk, Dan trailing a good twenty feet behind Phil, straight into the King’s Square.

A fountain bloomed in the middle of the court, benches and flowers strung around it in a patterned fashion. The water was off, seeing that it was the end of November, so the coin pool hung cold and still, no liquid splashing as it would in the warmer seasons.

The shops and restaurants curled around the piece of architecture in the center, creating a well-rounded square, and thus giving the area a name.

After a minute or so, Dan finally spotted Phil, leaning against a lamppost nonchalantly, the brown-haired boy’s headphones dangling from his fingertips. His red-lipped effortless smile twitched ever so faintly at the corners of his mouth, beckoning Dan to come closer. Strands of his black hair hung, disheveled, in front of his crystal eyes.

Dan stepped carefully towards Phil, a smirk of his own tied to his face. The boy took his time, staring at Phil as if it would help him know what the other boy was thinking.

As Dan reached his destination, he stopped, now a few feet in front of Phil.

Before Phil could open his mouth Dan interrupted him, complaining and panting from the exercise at the same time.

“Don’t you ever make me do that again.” Dan managed to choke out, bending over to catch his breath as Phil let out a chuckle.

“What? A little running too difficult for Prince Howell?” Phil teased although his breathing was just as ragged as Dan’s.

“You’re breathing just as hard as I am!” Dan shot back, lifting himself back up. “Is this what you call fun Phil? Because it isn’t fun. Most normal people-.” Phil cut him off with a finger to his lips, followed by a mumbled frustrated groan of “oh my god!” on Dan’s behalf

“That isn’t what your mum said last night” the taller boy stared straight at Dan. Trying to keep his voice even, Phil let out a long breath, the grin still plastered over his face.

Dan cringed. “Ugh did you just-“ He turned his head away from Phil, a stupid smile on his own face.

“Really, Phil? Really?” He cringed again. “That was horrible.”

“You know its true.” Phil said, a seductive undertone visible in his voice.

Dan shut his eyes, putting his hand to his forehead. “You’re going to make me have a cringe attack.” He shook his head.

“Dan,”

The boy’s eyelids flew open immediately, his pupils landing on Phil’s.

Phil eyes locked on Dan’s, the ocean of blue holding the other down, almost captivating him. And for a slight moment, Dan forgot anything that he had been about to say.

“Watch.” Phil almost whispered.

Then Phil, looking at Dan through his lashes, took his took his tongue, running it ever so slowly over his teeth, in perfect angle for Dan to see. He bit his bottom lip sexily, glancing sideways at the brown-eyed boy, and gave a wink.

Dan’s heart had stopped beating. He wanted to grab Phil and kiss him on those lips full on. He couldn’t focus on anything else. Not after that. He wanted to let each of his fingers run through that soft looking black hair, their bodies pressing close against each other and-

“That’s what I did after your mum-“ Phil said slowly and then smiled, cutting himself off to see Dan’s reaction. He was still staring at Dan as Dan shuddered, breaking completely out of his trance.

“Agh! Stop! I can’t take anymore!” Dan cried; cringing so visibly he hoped other people didn’t question what was going on. “Please! Take pity on me.”

Phil laughed as Dan smiled back, letting out a quiet chuckle and wrapped his arms around himself.

“What? Did that get a little too intense for you?” He grinned good-naturedly, licking his lips. “Cause you know, she likes it-“

At this Dan gave up, cringing and quieting Phil the same way Phil had gotten him to stop talking moments before. With a finger to his lips.

Phil’s face stayed in a smile, his eyes dancing, as Dan leaned closer to him, a plan in mind.

The boy’s hands were inching towards his headphones while Dan tried to distract Phil with his eyes on the other boy’s and his finger still over his mouth.

“Shh.” he said in a muted tone. His hands slowly got closer to their target, and Phil still stared at him, suspecting nothing. “You don’t want me to flop around on the floor like a dying fish do you?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Phil dipped his head in a nod, his nose centimeters away from Dan’s as the brown-haired boy brought his hand down at a unhurried pace.

“Then don’t make me have a cringe attack, you spork. Otherwise I might not be able to control myself.”

The ear buds were now just millimeters away from Dan’s fingers and Phil’s eyes were still locked on Dan’s, the both of them studying each other in the sudden close proximity.

“Okay?” Phil furrowed his eyebrows together, his smile shining through Dan like a sunbeam.

“Good.” Two more spaces.

And as Dan’s hand gradually closed around the area where his headphones should be, his fingers brushed nothing but Phil’s hand and the air around him. The other boy’s hand had been soft, his palm warm and dry and he snapped Dan out of his thoughts with words out of his mouth.

“Looking for these?” Phil asked, holding the headphones up as Dan stepped back.

“How did you-??” Dan let out a strangled sound. “I had a plan too.” he grumbled.

“I’m not as stupid as you think, Howell.” Phil grinned and Dan looked at him sideways.

“Oh right how could I forget? You’re dumber.” Dan teased, still giving Phil the side eye.

“Hey!” Phil pouted. “At least I’m taller!”

“You are not!” Dan turned away, skulking because of his ear buds.

“I am.”

“Liar.”

Phil let out a long sigh. “Fine, if you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it.” he smiled again. “If you are taller, than you should be able to reach these without a problem, right?”

Phil lifted his arm, stretching it to its tallest extent, and kept it in the air, the headphones bunched up inside his hand.

Dan snorted. “Oh no. I am not playing this game. There is no way you are going to make me jump like a five year old to reach my earphones.”

Phil raised his eyebrows, saying nothing.

“No, Phil, no. I wont do it.” The boy crossed his arms, planting his feet in resolve. Dan was not about to make a fool out of himself by jumping up and down in reach of a stupid pair of headphones.

“Okay…” Phil breathed out, drawing out the word. “Guess this means I’m taller than you then.” He shifted from foot to foot.

Yet, Dan was not going to be called shorty without even trying. Even though, both boys were like giants, towering over the rest of the population with their close to 6’3’’ frames, there was no doubt that Phil was just slightly taller than Dan. Maybe by like a centimeter. Or two.

But that centimeter made all the difference. And Dan did want his ear buds back.

After a minute of some serious thinking, Dan mustered up the most evil glare he could, staring at Phil straight in the eye. “I hate you.” He muttered, but he was unable to wipe the smile off his face as he jumped upward.

His hand missed Phil’s by millimeters, the chords of the object woven tightly between his fingers.

Phil laughed as Dan shook his head, blushing slightly.

“Shut up.” he muttered, a small smile played out on his face.

He tried again, jumping up and down and getting looks from strangers, but to no avail. Dan just couldn’t reach his earphones. By millimeters. Freaking millimeters. And Phil did nothing to help Dan get his prize. Instead he laughed with Dan, every time Dan tried to grab the headphones once again.

“Phillllll” Dan gave up hunching over after the umpteenth time. “Give them back. I can’t reach it.”

Phil grinned as Dan tried to catch his breath, breathing slowly. “Are you saying that I am taller than you?” Phil asked, unable to restrain himself from giggling.

“Yes! Now hand them over!” Dan cried. 

“I want you to say the entire sentence, Dan.”

Dan shot him a glare. “I will get you back for this.” he promised underneath his breath. After a moment Dan groaned. “Fine, Phil. You are taller than me.” he grunted. “Are you happy now? Did that make you feel better about yourself?”

“It did, in fact.” Phil said, gently lowering his hand as Dan waited like an eager puppy to grab the headphones.

“Well I’m glad your ego benefitted from my shame. You’re welcome for that.” Dan replied sarcastically, snatching the ear buds back. “At least some good clearly came out of this.” Dan crossed his arms, looking away from Phil

“Are you satisfied now?” Phil’s voice shook with silent laughter.

Dan didn’t even glance back to give his answer.

“Very.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw I love these two so much its scary. Kudo if you want more! Don't forget to comment too!


	5. Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffity fluff fluff

Dan glared at Phil as the other boy laughed again, staring right back at Dan, his eyes crinkled in the corners. As much as Dan hated to admit, Phil was right about being taller. When face-to-face, the boy’s eyes only reached the bridge of other’s nose, merely centimeters away from being the same height.

Phil smiled at Dan as he glowered, his expression completely un-amused.

“Come on Dan, lighten up!” Phil nudged the brown-haired boy in the side. “I was just forcing you to face the truth after all.” he said. “You can’t blame me.”

Dan scowled, ducking his head downward. “I hate you.” he replied, maintaining the sour face as long as he could before cracking a smile. “I won’t let you off this easy, Lester.” Dan grinned, unable to resist Phil’s contagious smile.

“I’m sure you won’t, Howell.” Phil chuckled, “But as of right now, I just need you to answer one question.” He stepped forward, off the lamppost and began to walk, Dan in an immediate side step beside him.

“And that would be?” Dan trailed, his eyebrows furrowed together in slight confusion as Phil’s smile transformed into a smirk.

“What do you and December 22nd have in common?” he asked.

Dan turned to face the blue-eyed boy, their gazes, one of confusion, the other of tease, meeting.

“Um, nothing?” Dan gestured bewilderedly with his hands.

Phil’s smirk grew wider as he answered the question in large amounts of excitement.

“You’re both short!” Phil sunk into a fit of giggles.

“OH MY GOD, PHILIP LESTER. I SWEAR-“ Dan said, personally offended. “YOU CAN’T- YOU JUST- THAT WAS ENTIRELY UNCALLED FOR.” The words jumbled out of his mouth quite loudly as Phil kept laughing.

“I’M SORRY. WE CANT BE FRIENDS IF THIS KEEPS GOING. I AM NOT SIGNING MYSELF UP FOR A WORLD OF SHORT JOKES. NOPE.” Although, Dan’s face and tone remained serious, inside he was laughing again, and loving every second of it. It just seemed to be so easy to burst into fits of giggles around Phil.

Phil wiped at the crooks of his eyes, his lean form hunched over in amusement because of Dan’s reaction. “Aw, but Danny, I’ve been waiting forever to use that one!” Phil finally whined between breaths of hilarity.

Dan turned away to smile, again unable to resist the grin creeping up over his mouth, yet still trying to uphold his poker face.

“No.” Dan said, “First of all, not Danny. Never Danny.”

Phil laughed silently.

“Second, this makes me far more eligible to receive piggy back rides from a mere peasant like you.” Dan deadpanned.

Phil snorted, “In your dreams, Howell.” he remarked.

“I’ll make you a deal,” the boy proposed. “No more insults from that mouth of yours and I wont force you to give me a ride whenever I wish to.” He tried his best to sound serious, but even the best of the best couldn’t hide the little twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps, I’ll just leave if I get too fed up with you.” A sliver of tease crawled into Dan’s harsh tone, causing Phil’s face to break into a smile.

He shook his head, waiting to respond. Finally, he spoke, holding Dan’s gaze. “Fine, shorty. You’re no fun.” His eyes sparkled in the last few rays of sun.

Dan groaned, sighing exasperatedly. “That’s it. I’m done. Have a nice life. ” Dan turned, smiling openly now, and began to walk away from the other amused boy, leaving him standing in the November cold.

The sun was setting behind the distant trees and the buildings around them, spilling golden and bronze rays into the plaza’s courtyard. The light reflected off of the still water that lay in the shut off fountain, pennies glistening. The area had cleared up considerably from people, so it was fifteen times easier for Dan to stalk across the King’s Square without having to dodge others like he was in the middle of an obstacle course.

Phil’s voice called out, not far behind him. “Dan, wait!” Phil said, and seconds later there was a hand around Dan’s wrist again, effectively stopping him in his tracks, the playful mood completely evaporating.

Dan’s heart started to pound in a not good way for the second time today, his breathing getting noticeably more sporadic. His mouth attempted to suck air into his lungs at a much faster pace, but he was failing miserably. Or at least it felt like he was failing miserably. Dan couldn’t really tell. The only thing he could feel was a hand, Phil’s hand, closed around his wrist and how he could yank it painfully with a flick of his fingers, and how this was the moment that Phil was going to hurt him because there wasn’t many people around, and Dan was-

And once more, the pressure was gone, just like the last time. Although, it had seemed to disappear faster this instance, like Phil had suddenly remembered how Dan had reacted to this before.

Dan flipped around to find himself inches away from the other boy, his breathing progressively slowing as he inhaled more air. The boy’s blue eyes searched his, desperately hoping for an answer as to why, but finding none from Dan’s brown orbs. He wasn’t planning on giving anything away- ever. If Phil had found out what happened behind the closed doors of his home, Dan was fairly sure he would run away screaming, and never look back. No, Dan was just going to pray that Phil never brought any of those subjects up.

And Phil, extremely kind Phil, must of seen something in the poor boy’s face because he decided not to push, ignore what had just happened entirely, and silently scold himself to stop grabbing Dan’s wrist. He opened his mouth, taking a small step backward to give Dan more space, and spoke.

“I’m sorry, Dan.” he said, “I can’t make any promises to stop throwing short jokes but I’ll try.” he smiled at him, trying to coax anything out of Dan but the fear of other people hands on him that was currently oozing out.

“Please stay?” Phil asked, spreading his hands.

Dan smiled, slowly but surely. Even it was one of the smallest smiles in existence. The boy’s breathing rate was now back at a normal pace, and the thundering of his heart was gradually getting there.

“You’re an idiot.” Dan said quietly, adverting his eyes to the ground. ‘Of course I’ll stay.” Dan shivered in his black sweatshirt, staring at the dying light reflecting in Phil’s eyes.

Phil smiled again. “Great. Now, you’re cold, its getting dark outside, and there is The Pancake House just to the right of me.” He ran a hand through his fringe. “So what do you say, Daniel? Lets go grab some pancakes.”

Dan forcefully cringed again at the use of his full name. “You have got to stop saying Daniel.” He muttered loud enough for Phil to hear. “And pancakes? At 6:00?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, and completely guessed on the time based off of the setting sun.

“Do you have a better idea?” Phil asked, “Besides, I love pancakes. I mean, who doesn’t? The opportunity to have a tall stack with butter and syrup dripping down the edges, topped with whip cream? Who in their right mind could pass that up?”

Dan let out a soft chuckle, shrugging and then groaning. “Now you’ve made me hungry!” he laughed.

“Good.” Phil said, walking up to the other boy and being extra careful to loosely loop an arm through his. “Because I want to buy some pancakes and I’m sure not eating them alone while you sit there and look pretty.”

Phil lead Dan around the benches and bushes scattered around the square, until he got to the small restaurant, pushing open the door with his shoulder and dragging the boy inside.

The aroma of butter and syrup hit them both as they stumbled within the place, untangling their arms from each other. The door chimed closed behind them, the chilled air left behind the glass. The small café type area had a vintage feel with yellow wallpaper splattering the walls and fairy lights hung up on the ceiling. Booths were tucked into corners of the room, and a fireplace sat snuggled on the back wall, armchairs and comfy looking couches littered around it. The counter was filled with delicious looking deserts and three giant menus hung up above it.

Filled with the scents of pancakes, chocolate, and coffee Dan’s mouth watered as they made their way up to the front of the crowded Pancake shop. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, not until Phil had brought it up, and now the thought of some buttery pancakes with coffee (who needed sleep?) seemed heavenly.

Stepping up to the end of the line, Dan and Phil both scanned the menu, deciding on their orders long before it was their turn to go. Something classical was playing throughout the café, the calm tune hovering in the air.

Although, The Pancake House was crowded, the little restaurant wasn’t loud. Hushed conversations and quiet laughter filtered through the room, providing Dan with a sense of safety and peace as he let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding.

Phil softly told him his order, asking Dan to say it for him while he went to go grab a table. Dan cringed; he didn’t want to talk to anybody, and to say his socializing skills sucked would be an understatement. Nevertheless, the boy nodded in agreement as Phil disappeared into the corner of the restaurant, sliding into a booth.

After Dan had ordered, taking both of their drinks from the cashier without another word, he turned around, practically jumping out of his skin in the process, only millimeters away from spilling coffee down Phil’s shirt.

“Holy mother of-“ Dan started, biting his tongue to cut himself off. “What the hell was that for?” he asked, “You scared the shit out of me.”

Phil said nothing, reaching for his coffee in Dan’s hands, it turned out he had ordered some too, and lifted it to his nose, smelling the delicious liquid.

“Thought you might need some help.” Phil mumbled, opening the plastic cup and now trying to sip his drink without burning his tongue.

“Oh I see.” Dan snorted, “Now you want to help me. After leaving me to talk with other people alone. Your skills must be as bad as mine.”

Phil jerked violently away from the cup, seeming to give up on his task. “Oops?” he offered, a sheepish smile escaping his lips.

Dan shook his head. “You’re such a spoon,” he muttered, looking down into his own drink.

Phil snorted, a bark of laughter erupted from his mouth. “Spoon?” he asked, his eyebrows raised upward as Dan started to walk away from him, heading for the empty table that the other boy had reserved.

“Would you prefer fork?” Dan said without looking at Phil. “Or if you can’t decide, spork is a common word of my vocabulary.”

Phil stayed silent, smiling as his head went from side to side, both boys lunging around tables in the small restaurant that wasn’t fit for their tall frames.

“Spork it is then.” Dan concluded, sliding into his seat as they had reached the table, and wrapping his cold hands around the warm cup.

“I didn’t even have a say in that!” Phil argued, taking the seat in front of the brown-haired boy. He popped open his coffee once again, setting it to the side to cool, and leaned forward, putting his chin in his hands.

“You didn’t give me a choice about ordering!” Dan countered, “You made me actually have to interact with people, Phil. I don’t think my brain even knows what the word socializing even is.”

Phil laughed as Dan bent back in his chair and slouched into a more comfortable position. The boy kind of wished that he was on his couch at the moment, falling into the abyss of relaxing cushions and molded sofa creases in his spine. Not to say that hanging around Phil wasn’t fun. In fact it was probably the first time Dan had felt anything other than guilt and sadness and self-hatred for the past couple of years. No, Dan definitely was not complaining, it was just that he thought that everything was better indoors. And on couches, couches were comfy.

“You are the prince, Dan. You’re supposed to be good at this kind of stuff.”

At this, Dan cracked, doubling over in fits of cackling laughter, desperately trying to regain his breath. “I’m sorry,” he said between mouthfuls of amusement. “Have you met me?”

He stirred his drink absentmindedly, the smile bright on his face. “This is Dan Howell you are talking to,” he told Phil. “He is one of the most awkward guys in existence. Warning; don’t let him near people for too long, he has the potential to combust due to too many inept conversations with far too long periods of silence.”

Phil snorted, nodding at Dan’s words. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” he said, acting serious as he carefully picked up his mug.

“Besides, Phil, tell me what you would rather do? Actually go outside, act like a prince and socialize, or take advantage of the immense amount of cash in your wallet and blow it all on merchandise and anime subscriptions?”

Phil, who was in the middle of taking a slow sip of the scalding beverage, sputtered, almost spitting the drink all over Dan’s sweater.

“Is that what you do with all your money?” he said, laughing. “Wow, Dan, being prince and all, you would think that you would be more responsible.” he joked.

The other boy huffed in opposition. “What are you talking about? I am one of the most responsible people you will ever meet!” Dan crossed his arms, pouting and smiling at Phil from across the table.

Phil cradled his cup in his hands, staring deeply into the brown liquid, his lips pulled into a relentless smile. He shook his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dan,” he muttered.

Dan faked a confused expression, looking at the taller boy sideways. “Sleep? What is this sleep you speak of?” he furrowed his eyebrows.

Phil broke down into fits of hilarity once again, his hands giving up on the task of trying to raise the cup to his lips and instead covering his mouth as light chuckles escaped past his fingers while Dan continued to try and convince Phil that he was, in fact, very responsible.

“And, don’t tell me that you wouldn’t spend your money on that either, because that would be a complete lie. It would not be in your best intentions to lie to your future king, Philip. In truth, it might very well ruin your track record.”

Phil smirked, his head cocked to one side. “Is that a threat, Howell?” he asked, raising his own eyebrows, barely stifling the laughter coming from deep inside him. “You don’t scare me, shorty.” He added, his smirk growing wider as the other boy’s face grew playfully annoyed.

“I swear, if you call me that one more time, I’m going to go full hulk smash on you.” Dan smiled, imitating Phil’s position and he wrapped his hands around his now warm cup for the second time. “Trust me, Lester, you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” he quoted, a smirk of his own resting on his lips.

Phil smiled back at him, unhurriedly reaching for the sugar packets that were laying in the middle of the table. “Marvel fan, are we?” he pointed out, tearing the small package and dumping its contents into the ever-present steaming liquid.

Dan shrugged, “I get around.” he said, his own grin expressed openly.

The light conversation between the two boys was silently put on pause as a waiter came out to bring them their food. A shy looking boy with curly brown hair and eyes almost as blue as Phil’s carried their plates, stacked with pancakes, from the kitchen. His name tag read Troye with an ‘e’ on the plastic, and he quickly set their plates down, leaving without much of a sentence besides the mumbled obligatory “Enjoy your meal.”

Dan then, focused his eyes on the meal in front of him. A stack of at least five pancakes sat in front of him, butter leisurely melting on the top one as maple syrup dripped from the sides, iced with immeasurable amounts of whip cream. Just as Phil had described it.

The boy, along with Phil, presumed to dig into his food, eating large amounts to allow the pancakes to dissolve on his tongue. On the other side of the table, Phil let out a soft moan of pleasure, sighing into the amazing quality of the breakfast/dinner.

Dan shot him a look, scarcely withstanding the urge to laugh.

Phil raised both of his hands in defense, letting out a mumbled “You can’t blame me, these are really good, okay?” response as an excuse while Dan snorted into his food.

“Whatever you say, Phil.” He said back to the other boy before digging back in.

After a few minutes of nothing but chewing from both sides of the conversation, Phil spoke up.

“So Dan, do tell me a little more about your life.” He stated between bites of intense shoveling of food.

“What are you, my grandma?” Dan cracked a smile, glancing at Phil sideways. His eyes met the other boy’s, the blue irises seeming to never stop dancing with light.

Phil rolled his eyes, giving a slight shake of his head in exasperation. “What I meant was, if you’re the prince and you have stuff to do and places to be, how do you have so much free time on your hands? Don’t you need to go be prepping to run the country or something? Have hair to be styled? Learning about the structure of England? You just don’t seem as busy as you should be, not trying to be rude.”

Dan adverted his eyes from Phil’s, his insides silently laughing. Yeah, sure, it was a lot of work to be a prince, keeping up the façade everyday, but what Phil didn’t know is that Dan’s father had stopped teaching Dan half of those things ever since the ‘incident’ occurred. That was the reason why Dan was sure his father had planned some sort of traumatic experience for him, leaving the King’s son dead in a horrible “accident”. Either that, or his father would lock Dan away somewhere on some far away island, giving Dan the exact motivation of needing to get out the second he turned of age. The poor boy could not think of anything worse than spending the rest of his life locked away in a prison, where no one knew he still existed, besides the monster that had started it all and was the cause of his nightmares. He would rather die than stay locked in that situation if the time ever came.

But, to answer Phil’s question, with Dan’s father not giving a flying fuck of where he was or what he was doing, almost all the time, Dan had turned to the internet. The various plots of anime he had spent countless nights watching, the shit load of music he had the opportunity to listen to, the chance to escape his life through books was all because of his father forgetting to care.

“What are you talking about, Phil. I don’t have time for anything anymore. My schedule of doing nothing all day is super booked.” Dan finally said in a monotone.

Phil tilted his head back, laughing lightly, pausing before spoke. "I see." He said, smiling. “Could you possibly make room for one more thing?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in hope, an undertone of shyness visible in his voice.

“That depends…” Dan trailed, “What are you offering?” he said seriously, leaning forward to put his chin in his hands, all business, yet still smiling.

Phil took a deep breath, his bright, genuine smile forever glued to his face. “Spend the rest of the night with me?” he asked, the words slightly rushing out of his mouth, a faint blush forming on his face.

Dan pretended to consider the idea, keeping a straight face while on the inside he was beaming back, and unable to refuse. There wasn’t anything he wanted more in the universe, then that right there. But he wasn’t going to let Phil on that easy…

Dan narrowed his eyes at Phil, incapable of keeping the joy out of the next few words that slipped past his lips.

“I could probably make some room for that somewhere… just maybe…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this, kudos and comments make my life so :)))) and want to be internet friends anybody?? Wow I sound like a creepy stalker. I promise I'm not. I'll stop talking now. ;)


	6. The minor fall and the major lift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playgrounds are the best, regardless of what age you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such the long wait on the chapter! And I'm also sorry if I made you want pancakes in last one ;) I'll have you guys know that I'm American as they get so using the phrase "knickers in a twist" made me feel severely sophisticated. Okay, I'll stop now and let you get on with the chapter.

Dan and Phil spent the next two hours drinking coffee, eating pancakes, and laughing until the restaurant owners shot them glares sharp enough to cut diamond because of being too loud and not ordering anything else.

After Dan had asked for a check, and the waiter named Troye had brought it to him, Dan brushed his hands on his pants, pulling out a wad of cash, prepared to pay for both him and Phil. As he yanked free the 50 Euros the other boy gave him a confused look, following the money in Dan’s hand with his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Phil asked, reaching for his own jean pocket.

“Sane people call it paying, Phil.” Dan responded without looking up; too busy tucking in the bill to the black checkbook.

“Yeah, no, I’m not stupid, I know what-“

“Really? You aren’t?” Dan cut him off mid-sentence, his eyebrows raised, fake disbelief colouring his voice.

Phil cracked a smile, shaking his head in slight annoyance. “I know what paying is,” he smiled. “Buy why are you doing it? I’m perfectly capable of using money myself.”

At this point Dan had finished his struggle against the paper, and he was now leaning his head against the cushioned chair, a smirk tied to his face.

“Call it the prince’s treat.” He said lazily, moving his arms behind his head.

“But-“ Phil protested, holding up his money as if to prove that he actually had it. “I can’t just let you-“ he argued, shaking his head again.

Whilst Phil was too busy trying to convince Dan that he didn’t need him to pay for his meal, Dan had slipped the money to the waiter underneath the table with immense amounts of impressive skill, smiling to himself about the fact that Phil hadn’t noticed.

“-and that’s just plain rude, I don’t want to seem like that.” Phil was saying, deep in the middle of his rant before Dan shushed him, leaning across the table, with a finger to his lips, letting the blue-eyed boy clamp his mouth shut.

“Shhh,” Dan said, “The deed is done Philly, no need to get your knickers in a twist.” He leaned back into his chair again.

Phil’s eyes bugged outward. “What- How did you-?”

“I’m a ninja.” Dan almost whispered; a sly smile glued to his face.

After a second of Phil trying to comprehend what had happened, his confused expression frozen on to his face, the boy snorted, gently laughing.

“Obviously.” He paused, regaining his composure quickly. “That’s why you tripped walking to the bathroom a few minutes ago, right?” He joked, sliding the money in his back pocket, his smile very visible on his face.

“The floor is a very mean thing okay?” Dan countered, crossing his arms.

“Uh, huh. Whatever you say.”

“Shut up.” He looked away.

Phil grinned, letting out another short laugh, knowing that he had won the end of that.

The two of them stood up, sliding out of the booth and walking to the door in a few strides. Phil rushed in front of the other boy, aiming to be a gentleman and hold it open for Dan.

He gripped the black door handle with one hand, pulling it easily. “My prince.” He gestured exaggeratedly, ducking his head in a bow.

Dan let out a huff of laughter, rolling his eyes and giving a shake of his head.

“Must you?” he asked, a joking exasperation visible in his voice.

Phil showed him a puppy-like grin that provided all the explanation Dan needed, opening the door wider and letting the warm air out and cool air in. Dan shivered in his jumper, blushing slightly, the chilly wind hitting his face mercilessly when he left the warm shop.

Walking into the night, Phil piped up, grinning at the redness in Dan’s cheeks.

“Come on, Dan,” Phil tried to reason as the other boy yanked at the sleeves of his sweater, pulling the material downward.

“It was only fair,” he started again, narrowly avoiding a bench. “You did pay, after all.”

Dan shook his head, his fringe falling forward, and a small smile visible beneath the darkness that cloaked him. He headed around the corner of the plaza, his pace slightly faster, walking towards the park settled not too far from the square. Phil trailed behind him, beaming like an idiot, his hair falling around his face in strands.

“Hey, spork, you mind if we walk to the park?” Dan asked him, turning around to face him, an eyebrow raised. Phil’s eyes glowed in the streetlights that were beginning to appear as they left the shopping area.

“Not at all,” Phil smiled, slowly catching up to the brown-haired boy in front of him. “As long as you aren’t planning to kidnap me this starry night?”

Dan waited for Phil ‘s pace to match his before turning around, the shadows hiding his face.

The park came to view in the empty streets; a circular path wrapped its way around the small playground stationed in the middle. Slides and a swing set decorated the toy structure, leaving a few benches and the forest surrounding the recreational area from all angles. The only way inside the small area was a narrow trail, moonlit and made of gravel, woven between the hundreds of trees.

“No kidnapping will be preformed this evening.” Dan said in all seriousness, pausing for a better effect as he spoke, and posing a thoughtful expression. “That’s more of a Sunday night thing.”

Phil did a double take, taking a moment to process Dan’s words before bursting into a loud laughter.

“Well,” the words were almost swallowed up with giggles. “Okay. Wow. I guess that I wont… be going anywhere… with you… on Sundays!” Phil managed to choke out, hugging his stomach as the two boys stepped onto the pathway.

The trees closed around them, the streetlights fading somewhere behind them as they walked through the copse. The black sky was cloudless, the stars twinkling in the dim moonlight, light pollution covering up some of the beautiful sights beyond the atmosphere.

Dan stepped into the park, memories rushing back to him while he glanced around, taking in the slides he used to run up to and swings he used to jump off of.

Phil smiled, doing the same thing as the other boy except not with a familiar recognition. “This is nice.” He gestured toward the empty circle. “Did you come here as a kid?” he asked.

Dan let out a bitter smile, not meeting Phil’s blue irises as he looked back. Before his mum had died when he was eight, he had used to come to the park quite often, dragging his Winnie the Pooh bear firmly in his grasp behind him. His father would pick him up at the end of the slide and spin him around in his arms; his smile brighter than the world. His mother would push him on the swings, mercilessly tickling him in the process.

Unfortunately, that was a ghost of Dan Howell. It was a ghost of the entire perfect family that they once were. After his mother had died, his father had changed, ever so slightly. He didn’t smile as much as he had used to and he was angrier over the most mundane things, for longer periods of time. As a child, Dan hadn’t thought much of it. He had just believed that his dad was sad because of his mum’s death, not thinking that his father’s anger ran much deeper.

Now, he would give almost anything to go back to those days. He wanted to be ignorant of the world and all the horrible things in it. He didn’t want to have to worry how to breathe in front of his father. Most of all, he wanted to relive the moments where he hadn’t hated himself for every action that he did.

Alas, erasing the past was not as simple as it seemed.

Instead, Dan took a deep breath, curling his hands into fists, before answering Phil’s question. He vowed to himself that he would tell the other boy the happy memories, and only the happy ones.

“Yeah,” he finally said, moving to sit on one of the benches near by. “I did.” He smiled. “It’s funny how it’s barely changed. I can almost see seven year old me running through here with my teddy bear in hand.” The wood was cold underneath his legs.

Phil giggled, plopping down on the wood next to Dan. “You had a teddy bear?” he propped himself comfortably, an easy smile displayed on his face.

“Winnie the Pooh, actually.” The boy stared at the empty structure, a distant look placed in his eyes. “God, I loved that thing.” Dan said fondly, the grin creeping up without thought. The swings swung forward in the calm breeze, silver light pooling around the edges of the metal.

“I think my mum essentially started calling me Bear because of how much I lugged that stuffed toy around.” The boy ran his hands through his hair, a doting expression blossoming on his face. Yet, there was a twinge of sadness underlining his tone, a flaw that Dan severely hoped Phil had dismissed.

Phil chuckled, seemingly unfazed. He crossed his arms. “Bear.” He said in conformation. “I like it.” The seriousness ringing true in his voice. “Very manly.”

It was now Dan’s turn to laugh, which he did, rolling his eyes. The boy lightly slapped Phil on the arm, his mood uplifting immediately at the other’s tone.

“Because I am the definition of that.” He laughed quietly as Phil nodded, his eyebrows jokingly raised in approval of the statement. “But, honestly, don’t tell me that you didn’t have something that you loved that much as a kid.”

Phil stared at the sky, the stars reflecting his crystal eyes, the smile growing larger on his face. “Of course I did, Dan.” He said, turning towards the brown-eyed boy. “Still do, in fact. His name is Lion.” His expression was stern, yet his grin was forever unwavering.

“Let me guess…” Dan started, imitating Phil’s appearance, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. “He is a stuffed lion.”

“That’s Mr. to you.” His blue gaze was intense.

“Alright,” Dan said, putting his hands up in a mock surrender. “Mr. it is.”

Phil nodded his consent once more, maintaining the serious look on his face. “It better be.” He said menacingly. Or, well, tried to say menacingly, Dan considered. Seeing as, Phil was about as intimidating as a butterfly, threatening people was definitely not his strong suit.

“Can’t have you disrespecting my lion, can I?” Phil continued, still aiming to sound coercing. “Bear.” He added as more of an afterthought, tilting his head to the sky.

Dan’s thoughts stopped in their tracks as he turned to face the other boy. “Since when did I give you permission to call me that?” he asked, his voice comical, yet sadness washed over him at the use of the old nickname he hadn’t heard since he was eight.

Phil gave a smile, meeting the brown-haired boy’s eyes, his own eyes happy in the moonlight. The chill of the night was creeping up on the both of them; their cheeks flushed pale red with the cold underneath the stars.

“You can’t just do as you please,” He said, “Lion.” Dan furtively grinned, slipping in the nickname as Phil’s eyebrows shot up, slowly meeting the other boy’s brown gaze. “There will always be a price to pay.” Dan said decisively, staring Phil straight in the eyes.

“And that would be?” Phil didn’t take his eyes off of the other boy, his face breaking into another grin.

“Little Philip getting another nickname, of course.” Dan responded, severely tempted to tease the blue-eyed boy, and he let the genuine smile transform his face. The boy swung his legs on the wood, his covered hands on either sides of the bench, his black jumper providing little warmth.

“Little?” Phil scoffed. “I’m taller than you!” he argued.

“Shhh.” Dan said back. “Lets not go there.” he smiled at Phil.

The other boy stood up, pushing himself off of the bench, stretching his hand out to Dan, his tall form looming over the shorter boy.

“And I’ll have you know that I’m seventeen.” He said as Dan took his hand, hoisting himself upward. The next few seconds were followed by silence of them standing there, their butts slowly freezing, until Dan eventually broke it, dropping his arm in the process.

“That’s great, Phil. Thank you so much for telling me that. I’ll inform the authorities at once.”

Phil giggled, facing Dan again. “No, you spoon,” he said, adopting one of Dan’s pet names. “What I meant was that I’m probably older than you as well, which gives you no right to call me little.” He joked.

“What makes you think that?” Dan asked defensively, crossing his arms at Phil’s laughing figure.

The taller boy glanced sideways, trying to mold his smile into a serious expression. “The immatureness of the jokes you make.” He ultimately said, barely controlling his laughter.

Dan snorted in response. “Says the man who still has a stuffed lion!” he shot back, wrapping his arms around himself. The cold was now starting to seep through his clothes, and he shifted from foot to foot, desperately trying to warm himself.

Phil’s laughter cut off and for a second Dan thought he had actually offended him. “Don’t insult Lion. We will seek our revenge on you if it happens again.” Phil said, fake seriousness colouring his voice. Dan silently breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the other boy got that he was only joking.

“Am I supposed to feel threatened by that?” Dan asked, smiling again. “You can tell you and your lion that I have a personal bodyguard at my disposal.” He teased.

The both of them lapsed into a comfortable silence that only lasted for a few seconds, their breaths materializing in the air.

“January 30th.” Phil blurted, taking Dan by surprise.

The other boy narrowed his eyes, confused.

“That’s my birthday.” The black-haired boy said. “Now you can tell me that I was right and I am older than you.” He offered

After a moment of silence Dan cussed underneath his breath, cursing the fact that Phil was right. Because, Phil was indeed older than him, and by a good amount of months, too. Dan then wondered how he was supposed to redeem himself from this without looking like a fool and why Phil always seemed to be right.

Meanwhile, Phil chuckled at the internal dialogue Dan was probably having, hearing the quiet cusswords underneath his breath. “I was right.” He said triumphantly, beaming like an idiot. “You are younger than me.” He poked his tongue out in Dan’s direction. “Look who’s the little one now.”

Dan raised his hands in exasperation, shaking his head. “You just stuck your tongue out at me!” he reasoned. “If that doesn’t scream little or child to you, I don’t know what does!”

Phil shrugged back, smiling. “I don’t make the rules, Danny boy,” he said, “Now, what do you say? Lets go slide down that slide, because you know that you secretly want to.” Phil inched toward the direction of the playground, turning around and walking to the structure.

Dan groaned, following the other boy after a moment of hesitation. “What did I tell you about calling me Danny?” he heaved a sigh. “And seriously? The slide?”

His shoes crunched on the slightly frost covered grass, the air coming out of his mouth in puffs. The slight breeze felt pure and icy against his face as he walked forward, catching up to Phil.

“What can I say?” Phil asked, glancing back at Dan. “I am the childish one, according to you.” He said. “My young grasshopper.” Phil added as he sped up his pace while Dan cringed, a slight skip in his step.

“Please don’t ever say that again.” Dan begged, squeezing his eyes shut for a spilt second. “That physically pained me, Phil. Just do us all a favor.” He instructed and Phil let out a light, bell like laugh.

“I’m deeply sorry Daniel.” He smirked, “Would you prefer Bear? Or perhaps shorty…?” he stopped, reaching the playground and running his eyes over it before returning them to Dan.

“You’re the worst.” Dan said sternly, yet, another smile slipped on to his face, the same true grin that seemed to only appear around Phil.

Phil wrapped his hands around the pole, pulling himself upward onto the stairs.

He waved away his comment with a shake of his head. “Are you coming?” he asked Dan, an eyebrow raised. He turned away, climbing higher past the yellow metal. The moonlight pooled around him, dimly illuminating his shadowy figure.

Dan took a deep breath. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” the boy mumbled but acquiesced to Phil’s request and stepped on the structure.

Following Phil, the two boys reached the top, standing right next to the twisty slide, Dan stopped. He was breathing a little faster than normal, the silver cloud freezing in the air, the chill of winter long forgotten by both Dan and Phil.

Phil shot Dan a mischievous smile, holding his gaze for a second too long. His hands fluttered over the railing, his smile growing wider. The blue-eyed boy swung his leg over the bar without a word, as Dan raised his eyebrows.

“What are you doing?” Dan leaned against the opposite side of the railing, watching Phil successfully get his foot over the other side.

“Climbing up there.” He said simply, nodding his head in the direction of the roof of the slide as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Excuse me?” Dan asked, stopping Phil in his tracks. “Are you expecting me to follow you?” His eyebrows shot higher.

Phil nodded, a goofy smile possessing his features as he effectively managed to climb up onto the slide and now was sitting on the plastic roof, maneuvering himself into a comfortable position.

Dan shook his head. “No way.” He said. “I could fall off.” He tried to reason. Yeah, maybe he could climb down the side of his gigantic house therefore why should he be scared to do this? But doing that was different in Dan’s mind. Climbing down the house was practically a matter of life or death. Climbing to the top of a playground was reckless, stupid, and completely childish. Not to mention that there was the possibility of falling off.

Phil chuckled at Dan’s disbelieving expression, patting the spot next to him. “Just climb, Dan. I promise you that it’s worth it,” He tried to convince the other boy. “Please, Bear.” He added, his tone slightly begging as Dan’s heart slowly melted in Phil’s blue eyes.

After a moment, Dan clenched his teeth, begrudgingly agreeing. “I swear, Philip Lester, if I slip…” he muttered.

Dan swung a leg over the edge, mimicking the way Phil was a few moments ago. The younger boy ascended to the top with the help of Phil’s instructions, and before he knew it, the older boy had scooted over, giving Dan the room to sit.

The boy plopped his butt down on the cold plastic, the playground giving a little shake as he got situated. “If this falls…” he started before getting cut off by Phil’s laughter.

“You worry to much.” Phil informed him, his face only a few inches from Dan’s because of the unusual seating arrangement.

There were only a few inches of space left between them as they sat on the blue top, their hands wrapped around the edges of the piece of equipment. The boys’ breaths mingled together, their legs hanging off of the edge, gently swinging.

Dan had to admit, the view was spectacular from this angle. He could see the streetlights polluting the pavements from up on the slide through the leaves of the trees. The copse seemed to isolate them from the rest of the world, not that either of them minded.

“So,” Dan finally said. “What was so special about being up here?” he asked Phil, turning his head to face him after scanning all of his surroundings. Phil chuckled, a laugh that vibrated throughout the entire area.

“Look up.” Was all that he said, doing so himself for a moment, his smile brighter than the moonlight.

Dan obeyed his request, his heart fluttering in his chest.

And his eyes were met with one of the most beautiful sights he would ever see in his life. The sky was littered with stars, the most he had ever seen, and the moon gleamed brightly. Dots of light enhanced Dan’s vision for as far as he could see, almost like he was staring at half the globe. He stared, craning his neck back to capture more of the galaxy above him.

“Oh…” he breathed out the beauty, meeting Phil’s gaze. The other boy was smiling, and Dan was so close to him he could see the galaxy that was overhead reflected in his dancing eyes. “Yeah, I can see why you would want to come up here.” He confessed as Phil let out a quiet breath of mirth.

“I told you it was worth it.” He half-whispered, looking up again before turning back to Dan. “Trust me next time.” He grinned.

After sitting in silence for multiple minutes, Dan spoke up.

“What do we do now?” he asked Phil, still gazing at the sky,

“Now,” Phil responded, in the same position as Dan. “We wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments! They seriously make my day, please leave more! And don't forget the kudos! :)))


	7. The baffled king composing Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys I'm sorry about such a long wait, I haven't had Internet for the past few weeks (HOW AM I EVEN SURVIVING??!) and I am now finally able to post this chapter. See about this chapter.... I know you guys are all big girls (and guys if there is any reading this i don't know I've just never seen a guy read fanfic) but this chapter does get a little violent so please please please don't hate me I promise I'll make it better.... Feel free to comment your thoughts and don't forget to leave kudos for more!

It was well past midnight when the two boys had gotten off of the playground slide that night. They had exchanged phone numbers; well something more like Phil had scrawled his on the back of Dan’s hand muttering totally unreasonable nonsense about him “going to forget” and Dan had acted offended for Phil not believing in him. Phil had laughed, waving off Dan’s accusations, persistently writing the ten-digit number in sharpie. In truth, Phil was right, who was Dan to remember all those numbers when he could be memorizing song lyrics?

After they had parted ways, Dan pulled out his phone, quickly typing the contact and sending a text before his phone died. He had been too lazy to get up and reach the charger that morning (It was on the other side of the room, who could blame him?) and he was now paying the price for his languor.

He’d walked home in silence the rest of the trip, hoping to every, and any god out there that his father was asleep and not pacing back and forth, waiting for his son to take the anger out of him.

Fortunately for Dan, luck seemed to be on his side that starry night and he got into the building with out a problem, collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep almost immediately, the thought of a certain blue-eyed boy on his mind.

Yet, the next morning Dan’s luck had seemed to run out, as loud banging on his door awaked him, startling him from his sleep. Groaning into his pillow, he sat up, glancing at the clock with bleary eyes.

The time, 8:47, blinked back at him, the sun dimly filtering into the room from Dan’s black curtains. The banging had yet to cease and Dan gave out a shaky cry of “Yes?” deep sleep clouding his voice.

A male voice that he didn’t recognize called back to him, his tone a little scared. “Prince Daniel?” he asked, light doubt colouring his voice. “The king wishes to see you in his personal quarters I-immediately.” He stammered as Dan cussed, now immediately awake, his stomach filling with fear.

“Alright.” Dan said back painfully. The last thing he wanted to do this morning was to have a “conversation” with his father, as if it was an actual conversation.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Unfortunately, the prince knew the horrible truth for his father’s so called visits. Almost all of them resulted in a few bruises and new reasons to hate himself on Dan’s part. He just hoped today that maybe, maybe, he would get lucky.

He jumped up from the bed, frantically changing out of his sleepwear and into his normal black outfit for the day. Brushing his teeth and slipping on his jeans at the same time with impressive amounts of skill, Dan was interrupted by the man on the other side of his door once again.

“Um, sir?” the poor guy stuttered, “He said without delay and…” He trailed off as Dan cursed again, stubbing his toe on one of the miscellaneous objects scattered around the room.

“Shit, okay, I’ll be out, give me two seconds.” Dan replied, just barely sliding his shirt over his head before opening the door. His hair was a complete curled mess, his black shirt rumpled, and his jeans a size too tight.

Dan’s eyes were met with a boy, about his age, standing outside of his door. The stranger’s light brown hair was spiked upward and his green eyes flitted nervously toward the prince underneath their lashes.

“Hi.” He said, the smile in his voice pushing past his lips, his American accent noticeably visible.

“Hi.” Dan replied a little breathlessly, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“I’m Connor.” He said, giving a small grin at Dan, at which Dan returned.

“Dan.” The other boy said. “But I’m sure you already knew that.” He chuckled, trying to swallow down the awkwardness of the conversation that was falling on their shoulders.

“You’re father wants to see you.” Connor finally said and the smile melted from Dan’s face, his fear rising to a full force.

The boy swallowed slowly, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. “Lead the way.” He instructed, running a hand through his hair, as Connor seemed to notice his unease.

The other boy raised an eyebrow, briefly meeting the prince’s eyes before looking away. No questions were asked, to which Dan was grateful, and they walked through the labyrinth of halls with the clicks of their shoes producing the only noise.

Dan yanked on his sleeves, covering his sweaty hands, his heart fluttering in his chest, his thoughts unable to focus. He felt like he might throw up, if given the chance, and in these moments he was immensely appreciative that his grumbling stomach was empty.

As they rounded the corner, reaching the giant double doors that led into the king’s office, Dan closed his eyes, desperately trying to clear his head from the fog that was drifting from behind the wood.

He attempted to breathe deeply as Connor opened the door for him, giving him a small nod and smile in goodbye.

Dan tried to smile back, he really did, but with the figure of his father only a few yards from him it probably came out more of a grimace.

The prince ducked underneath the doorway, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, listening to the lock click shut behind him.

His hands, normally always stirring, tapping, or twittering, were finally still from movement with the exception of faint shaking. His head felt hot, his breathing shallow, and his body was an ocean of fear, his eyes not daring to look up.

There was a moment of horrible, suffocating silence as Dan studied the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world, the walls in the office trapping him, slowly taking the air out of the room.

The boy tried to stop his vision from hazing over, taking small breaths in through his mouth, his trembling hands intertwined as he relapsed the unsighted reaction he always had around his father.

The room was too quiet, the silence hanging in the air like an overpowering cloud around him. Cotton had been stuffed in his ears; his eyesight unfocused, and the glass walls were rising up around him in a fortress, the air leaving his lungs painfully.

He wished that it would stop, that the fear-induced hallucination would disappear, and that something would break the choking silence that had wrapped around his head. His mind was going blank, being blinded by the presence of his father in the room, and hurting him with the thoughts of what his own dad was capable of doing to his son.

His brain was almost as bad as the king, stranding him in the violent islands of his despair more often than not. Moreover, he was going there again, the soft ringing in his ears getting louder by the second, his heart thumping a thousand miles a minute, his lungs failing at their job, the walls around him growing higher. He couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t focus, and the only thing he could feel was his gut wrenching fear.

“Daniel.”

The walls shattered around him, the shards flying across the room, the silence broken leaving Dan in a disoriented state, terrified to make a move.

“Sit.” His father’s cruel voice demanded, forcing Dan to look up.

He walked across the dark hardwood floor, making his way over to one of the chairs situated in front of the king’s desk. The surroundings in the room meant nothing to him, the only thing he was certain to be fully aware of was the door, which he leaving behind with every step.

He obeyed what his father had told him to do, sitting in the cushioned chair as the other man sat on the opposite side of the desk. While Dan stared at the papers littered over the giant piece of furniture, he struggled to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to accidently anger the king.

He attempted to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat, his hands shaking in his lap, his mind short-circuiting around the words please don’t hurt me, the letters jumbling around in his head. Every breath that Dan took was a gunshot, every beat of his heart a bomb. He wished that the silence would end, that he could disappear or be anywhere but near his father.

He thought that his bones would snap with expectation that his brain might melt without the knowledge of what his father could do, that he just could die of fear right then and there.

And he hated himself for it. For the way his body reacted around his father. He couldn’t stand that he wasn’t stronger, that he couldn’t stop the fear from seeping into every crook in his bones. He wished that it were different, that he could just walk away, leave this monster of a man behind or punch him in the face and show him what he deserves. Yet, things weren’t that simple. Life wasn’t that easy.

No, it didn’t help that his legs always felt like bags of water around the king, but even aside from that, Dan wouldn’t survive. Even if he were strong enough to get away, where would he go? What would he do? He would be hunted down. Killed. Forgotten about in weeks. And that’s if he did escape. There almost wasn’t a point.

He was trapped, whether he liked it or not, and as far as he could see, there was no light out of this endless tunnel.

He felt a hand on his arm, a sharp pinch bringing a wave of pain upon him as he extracted himself from his whirlwind of hopeless thoughts, plunging back into a reality that wasn’t much of an improvement.

“Daniel.” His father said. “I asked you a question. Would you be so kind enough to answer it?” The king’s tone was of steel, his glittering eyes daggers, and Dan knew without doubt that the question wasn’t really a question at all as his father tightened his grip on his arm.

Dan did his best not to wince as he met the man’s eyes, hoping that the fear capturing every inch of him wasn’t shown on his face.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice barely above a squeak, and sheens of self-hatred came refreshed with the fear within him. Why couldn’t he just be stronger? Better? Not just afraid all the fucking time?

“Do you know why you are here?” His father repeated, rolling his eyes at his son’s fear, muttering words under his breath that Dan couldn’t catch.

The boy vigorously shook his head, looking back down at his hands, forcing his gaze not to linger on the arm that was on his. Every inch of skin underneath his father’s grasp felt on fire, and not in a pleasant way. It was like every nerve in the area anticipated the bruise that was waiting to come.

“Pathetic.” Dan’s father uttered quite loudly, giving another roll of his eyes and a shake of his head in Dan’s direction. “He can’t even look at his superiors when he talks.” The king said to himself shaking his head once more.

Dan’s eyes stayed glued downward, and as much as he tried to look up, he found that he couldn’t. He just wasn’t able to. He knew that if he looked up he would die inside and out.

He’s right. He thought to himself. You really are pathetic. Just one sorry excuse for a human being.

Swallowing down his feelings, Dan breathed, focusing on the simple task and attempting to complete it.

“Haven’t I taught you better?” His father asked his voice almost bored.

Dan didn’t respond, desperately trying to ignore the recent thoughts that were invading his mind. These new thoughts were a million times worse than the others, as they latched onto the old ones, combining his fear and anger together. The anger he always felt towards himself. No, he was never angry with his father, why should he be? He was the one always fucking stuff up. The only person to be mad at was himself.

“I guess not.” His father sighed as if he was truly disappointed, before grabbing his son’s chin and yanking it upward so that their eyes met.

Dan couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his lips, focusing on ignoring the white-hot pain of his father’s nails digging into his cheeks. His brown irises dilated in dread having met the king’s soulless ones.

“Well?” The king inquired, gesturing with his free hand. “I don’t have all day, boy.” His tone was dangerously soft as Dan sat in silence, not able to provide his father with an answer.

“Jesus Christ.” His father said, exasperated. “Do I have to spell everything out for you?” The anger in his manner ticked up a few notches and the trembling boy gulped, again wishing to be anywhere but his father’s office as the man’s fingers tightened on his face.

“I’ll ask you again, Daniel. Where were you last night? Why were you out so late?” He stared him down.

Dan stuttered, choking over the meaningless words in his mouth. That’s why he was here? Because of last night? He didn’t know what to say, no lies coming to his brain in the situation.

He stuttered again, knowing that he couldn’t say anything about Phil. Knowing that if he did, he would be sending the other boy to his death. He might as well walk up to him and shoot him in the head if he wanted to go down that route. The king’s son couldn’t lie either, as his father would see right through his act and the punishments he would receive would be far worse and far longer for him, although he didn’t know how they could get much poorer.

“Spit it out, you ignorant fool.” The man demanded, and Dan seemed to be out of time to think. He shook his head before discovering that doing that was very painful to his cheeks, choking out words.

“Out. I was out.” He hardly managed and gave a breath of relief as his father released his deathly grip on him, breathing just a little bit with less difficulty.

“You were what?” all feeling vanished from the king’s voice. “Out?” King Howell now looked out of breath in comparison. “Define out.” He said, “Explain it.”

Thinking of the night before, Dan felt some surge of emotion, remembering how happy he had been with Phil, and he inadvertently let some of his old-self take over.

“Well, yes, you know. The concept of actually going outside which most teenagers can’t-“

He was cut off with a sharp slap to his face, his father’s hand sailing across the boy’s left cheek. Pain flared as the imprint formed and Dan was left speechless, the sensation that he had been feeling previously was now long gone from his system and replaced with the ever-present terror.

“What was that?” His father’s voice was a knife and it was cutting him slowly, tearing him apart and forcing him to suffer. “What did you just say to me? You were out?” Surprisingly, the king’s pitch was soft, the calm before the storm, and Dan’s eyes pricked with tears. Stupid. He thought. He was so stupid. Why did he ever think that that would be okay? That to use tone around his father would go unseen? Goddamn it, this is why he deserved the beatings that he got.

His thoughts turned against him once more and he blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over his lashes. He guessed his prayers had been left unanswered and that these next moments were going to be some of the worst. After all, the king was only just getting started.

“Oh poor Daniel.” His father crooned, his hands twitching with menace, and Dan swallowed painfully, trying to ignore the throbbing in the side of his face.

“Did daddy hurt you again?” The malicious beast continued to mock, his body shaking with rage on every syllable. He paused, collecting his breath, his handsome face breaking a slight sweat.

“Well guess what?” he asked. His father was no longer mocking now, his tone edged with the rage that had transformed his body.

“You aren’t my son.” He gave Dan a smile, a horrible, hideous, vile smile, before his face turned to stone. His hand raised up to hit the prince again, each word erupting from his mouth harsher than the next.

“My son died. Years ago. And he was never like this.”

The slap echoed through Dan’s skull and he dimly wondered if the guards outside the door could hear what was going on. The taste of blood crammed his mouth as skin came in contact with skin, vibrating his entire being.

“My son knew better than this.” The king continued, standing up now. “He acted better, followed the rules, and was going to grow up to be a king.”

The tears that had filled Dan’s eyes were spilling down his face, after every blow, and he did nothing to defend himself, knowing that fighting wasn’t worth it. Besides, why should he fight if everything his father was saying was right? Completely and utterly right?

“And,” The leader recessed, freezing his fist in the air, breathing hard. “My son wasn’t gay. He was never and could never be your kind.” He hissed, grabbing the collar of Dan’s shirt and pulling him up like a useless rag doll.

“But now,” David Howell gave his son another ghastly smile. “He’s gone and left me with you. You worthless, good for nothing, faggot.” And he brought his fist down, slamming it into Dan Howell’s pretty face.

The pain exploded in the right side of Dan’s jaw and he hoped to god that it hadn’t been broken. Again. The king dropped his son, breathing hard, sheens of sweat coating his forehead.

“Damn that felt good.” His father breathed out through his teeth, laughing lightly. At first, repulsion pulsed through Dan, leaving him wondering how could he do this to his son, before he realized that he agreed. He had deserved all of that. All his father was doing to him was a favor.

The blood tricked down his brow and he could feel his face starting to swell up, his cheeks stinging. The tear tracks were drying on the boy’s face as his father picked up some of the papers that had been scattered during the episode.

“Now, when I leave this room, the halls will be empty.” Dan’s father said, his voice sickly, but identifiably happy, as he spoke. He was joyful from hurting his own son. “Just walk back to your room and I wont have to see your sorry ass until tomorrow. Got it?”

Dan closed his eyes, unintentionally whimpering again, his heart thudding through his wounds, and he licked his lips.

“You can do that for me right, you incompetent piece of-“

The king was cut off with a quick knock on the door and the silver handle turning. The young butler named Connor poked his head in the room, searching for the king.

From the doorway, Dan’s matted hair and small section of his face which he hoped wasn’t too damaged was only to be seen from when he had collapsed, or was dropped, into the armchair. He was too tired to move; too goddamn tired to do anything, and he had figured the back of the chair was covering most of the blood.

David Howell cried out, his voice pure anger as he bellowed, “What do you think you are doing?” to the poor boy.

The fear flashed through Connor’s eyes, yet he stood his ground, subtly trying to get a glance at the prince after noticing his face.

He faced the king. “Sir-“ he began, before pausing and Dan assumed he was taking in the trickle of blood on the king’s knuckles, and putting two and two together. Although, he silently begged the boy to not say anything, as it would only cause him more pain.

Connor audibly swallowed and Dan could see his father’s eyebrows shoot up, daring him to challenge him, to accuse him. Connor’s eyes flitted between the two forms. After moments of silence and Dan’s wordless praying, Connor spoke.

“The meeting is starting, sir.” Was all he said, meeting the king’s eyes, matching the king with his own persistent gaze.

Dan’s father checked his watch. “Indeed it is.” He let out a whistle between his teeth. “But, first things first,” he addressed the American boy directly.

“Not a word.” He said regaining his composure, the threat audible in his voice. “You were never supposed to see that, and you never did. My son and I just had a small disagreement, nothing more, nothing less.” He wiped his hand with a tissue, his form a façade of calm.

“Of course your Majesty.” Connor replied and Dan let out a sigh of relief, glad that someone had at least heard these prayers. Or maybe Connor just had really good common sense.

“Good.” The king stared at him, showing him that people would indeed suffer if he uttered a word through four simple letters.

“Now, I must be going.” He said to his son, barely addressing him with a flick of his wrist, Dan’s blood staining the edges of his fingernails. “Meetings to attend, important stuff to do,” He slipped on the white gloves that had sat on his desk, a effective plan used to cover any and all evidence, and he pulled them so that they were even. His maids had long ago learned to never question the mysterious brown stains that always appeared on the furniture after the king had meetings with his son.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said. And with that, David Howell walked past the broken figure of Dan, a smile still on his face, and left the room with Connor, the door shutting softly behind him.

Dan shut his eyes, his bruised face aching already, and all he wished to do was sleep so that he could wake up from his tortured nightmare of a life.

Unfortunately for him, he had realized long ago that things weren’t always that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs in the corner* please don't murder me for that.


	8. Your faith was strong but you needed proof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's thoughts catch up to him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A month without updating she comes back with a chapter that no one even asked for, she's not a talent or drag- ahahaha see what I did there^ okay first I must say, I'm sorry for such a long wait. I haven't had internet for a while now and I just got it back so I'm hoping to update more frequently. Second, thank you guys for all the kudos and comments every single one of you is amazing. Now, go enjoy 4k words (what has my life become?)because you deserve it. P.s: 100 points to the person that can find the supernatural reference in this chapter.

Dan spent the next few days addressing his wounds, applying massive amounts of concealer until it covered most of the damage when it was necessary, and living in fear of when his father would see him next.

Each time his father wanted to “visit” him, Connor had ventured out to get him, not once looking Dan in the eye or speaking. Instead, he kept his head bowed, paying attention to the ground as they walked, and opened the door leading Dan straight into the talks that always resulted in violence, without a word.

Not that Dan had minded his actions. No, Dan was more focused on trying to not throw up or pass out as his vision blurred in living terror. He even had trouble just to breath normally when they made those treks down the long hall.

He could also safely say that he felt bad for Connor, for the poor teenager now had the weight of one of the king’s best-kept secrets resting on his shoulders. Dan had no doubt that his father had threatened Connor and his family to hell if the American boy uttered a word.

And still, every time Connor had come knocking on his door, Dan had managed a small smile at him, trying to tell the other boy that it was okay, that this happened to him enough for him to accept it, but, without fail, Connor had refused to meet his eyes, looking anywhere but the prince’s face, leaving Dan’s silent attempts to fall to the ground like withered leaves. Yet, it didn’t stop Dan from trying.

It was now a couple weeks after the incident and most of the bruises along Dan’s jaw had healed, leaving nothing but small purple blemishes against his cheek, which were easily hidden.

Dan was currently pacing back and forth in his room, fully aware that his father hadn’t seen him in the past couple days and the sun was starting to set, signaling that work hours for the king were almost over. If his father had the free time this evening, which he most likely did, he was to be sure to visit his son and make up for the lost time he had missed.

The prince’s nerves were on fire as he thought about the something that was yet to come, his father’s past words echoing in his ears. He had tried so desperately to shut his brain off, putting in his ear buds and blasting music until the beat vibrated through his skull. He’d attempted to read, play the piano, do anything but hear the words branded in his head. He had even resorted to looking out the window, wishing fiercely to be anywhere but his own personal hell he called home.

Now, he had given up, alternating to walk around his room, his phone and headphones long forgotten on the bed. He continued to run his fingers through his messy hair, his mouth dry, and the contents in his stomach threatening to rise up, his head a war zone.

His father’s words made themselves clear in his head until his brain had wrapped around them completely, swallowing them whole, and played them again and again like a broken record that no one could put out.

 _Oh. Did daddy hurt you again_?

Dan’s head hurt and there was too much noise going on, too many sentences said by the same voice, too much silence in between. He shook his head as if it could rid his brain from the hurtful sounds that were being emitted within.

_Well, guess what?_

“Shut up,” Dan whispered desperately, wishing that maybe this one time his commands would be answered, seeing that he did not want his thoughts to go any further. Unfortunately, his pleas fell on the deaf ears of his mind and his father’s voice kept speaking, getting louder with every letter.

_You aren’t my son._

His head was pounding, his heart beat irregularly fast, and the air was leaving his lungs once more, the oxygen draining through the cracks in the room. The walls closed in on him as the boy paced faster, trying to leave his mind behind with every step.

_My son died. Years ago. And he was never like this._

It felt as if Dan was slowly going insane, and maybe he was; yet, the saddest part of it all to him wasn’t the fact that he might be. It was the slow realization that happened as the poor boy’s thoughts spiraled to insanity, the knowledge of his madness that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

 _My son knew better than this_.

Dan wanted to choke as he collapsed on the bed, begging to breathe like a normal person again. He knew the wounding words were coming up once more, his father’s voice rising to a scream in his head.

_My son wasn’t gay._

Maybe Dan could of taken the words the first time. Perhaps, even the second, but after hearing the sentences, the syllables pronounced ever so carefully, over and over again? Any sane person would break, and Dan knew deep within his bones that he had been teetering over that cracked ledge for a long time.

_My son was never your kind._

The boy ran his hands through his hair before switching to the duvet, searching for his phone with out concentration. All he could think about were his father’s vocabulary, which had started to repeat itself in his god-forsaken head, while his hands fumbled for the black device.

And before he even realized what he was doing, his fingers were frantically dialing Phil’s number without his permission of any kind.

The phone rang and rang against Dan’s ear as he hoped to any god out there for Phil to pick up. He needed for Phil to pick up. He needed to be somewhere else. He needed to forget the rest of the world with Phil’s voice, even if it was only for a little while.

It seemed to him that Phil gave out some beautiful aura of happiness wherever he went and because of that Dan was able to forget his life and all it’s problems temporarily.

And to Dan, well, he thought that that was bliss in its own way.

He loved the way in the short time of knowing each other; Phil’s laugh already seemed to fill the hole in his chest, his smile gave Dan something to live for, if only for a few seconds, and his eyes, in Dan’s heart, Phil’s eyes were the best part.

The ocean of blue that he could just drown in, the light shining from that blue, always dancing and never ceasing to bring a smile to the brown-haired boy’s face, those were some of his favorite things about Phil’s eyes.

Yet, if Dan were asked, his answer would be different.

Although, both of those things were high up on the list, Dan knew in himself the true reason he was so drawn to Phil’s eyes. To Philip Lester himself. It was the fact that whenever Phil looked at him, there was no hate in his gaze (excusing the brief two minutes of them first meeting), and a small part of Dan hoped that there never would be. He had grown up around hate; he’d learn how to cope with it until it became as easy as breathing. Constantly, he was surrounded by it, practically eating, sleeping, and drinking the abhorrence.

He had built walls around himself from it, forcing himself to feel less, to try not to care, to be empty, because being empty was easier than feeling that detestation in his veins.

And Dan was strong, stronger than most people, yet something told him that he wasn’t sure he would be able to take it if Phil hated him for real.

That, that very thing might just cause him to break beyond a saving point.

To send his walls crumbling.

But Dan didn’t want to think about that.

The phone gave a buzz as the line connected and Phil’s voice filled Dan’s ears, giving Dan a sense of relief as Phil spoke into the speaker.

“Hello?” the other boy said and that alone was enough to ease some of Dan’s feelings and make his father’s voice duller in his mind.

Dan stayed silent, suddenly unsure of what to say, and questioning why he had even called in the first place. Phil clearly wouldn’t want to be bothered with Dan’s stupid troubles.

“Dan?” Phil tried again when he got no response and some hope shot upward in Dan’s spirit as Dan took a deep breath, his lips quivering.

“Phil.” Dan breathed, the thudding of his heart slowly relaxing.

“Dan? What’s wrong?” The concern in Phil’s voice lessened some of the pain in his chest, tears pricking at his eyes.

At the silence, Phil’s toned softened, his voice almost a whisper. “Dan?” He asked again. “Are you crying?”

Dan’s breathing hitched as he slowly raised a hand to his cheek, his fingers feeling moisture. And suddenly, that just made Dan Howell’s heart swell even more towards Phil, that the fact he had noticed, known that he was crying while Dan himself didn’t. He hiccuped quietly, smiling just barely through his tears until he started to talk.

“Phil- I- I- I.” He started to say, stuttering badly. The prince took an audible breath, inhaling shakily, as Phil comforted him from the other line.

“It’s alright, Dan. Take your time,” he said kindly and Dan let out a small smile, wondering why Phil even put up with him. The dark part of his mind told him that he should stop, that Phil didn’t need to be troubled with his problems, that he deserved whatever his father gave him anyway. But, the other part of his mind was panicking and it needed a way out, over-ruling whatever previous thoughts Dan had. Having his decision in mind, the brown-haired boy began to speak.

“I need to get out, I need to leave this place. He is- it’s- it’s going to happen again and I-I’m not sure if I can take that right now and I can’t even think straight I need to go somewhere, I need to leave this place, to do something, to do anything to get my mind off of everything in my life, to forget the world before he finds me. I need to be gone, to disappear. I can’t take it again. Not today, just not today, I can’t or I might almost-“

_Just start to believe him._

Dan stopped, breathing hard, gasping oxygen in and out of his lungs; salty tears splashing on to his cheeks.

That’s what he almost said.

No, no- he shouldn’t think about that. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t let himself. If there were anything that he could stop at the moment it would be those exact words. He couldn’t just start to believe his father.

Because he knew if he did that, he would be completely and royally fucked. The prison gates of his mind would be shut and locked and he would be trapped. It couldn’t ever get to that point, to the point that Dan would rather off himself than believe the lies fed to him.

At least right now, at the end of it all, Dan could recognize the difference between the hurtful words said to make him feel horrible and the truth. But what would he do when the line between those two things seemed to blur? How would he survive when he didn’t know which was which anymore?

Dan assumed that would be his breaking point, his realization that his existence was beyond hope. And that’s where Phil came in. If Phil decided to leave, to understand how truly screwed up Dan’s life was and want nothing more to do with it, Dan knew that maybe right now he could live through it, but later? He didn’t even want to think about later, and his thoughts were telling him to stop now. To cut off whatever friendship was forming between them before Dan was in too deep. Before the brown-eyed boy hurt Phil and himself in unimaginable ways.

Dan licked his dry lips; his heart beating like claps of thunder once again and his voice cracked on the words he said next.

“Please, Phil. Please. Get me out of here. Please.”

The boy on the other line was silent for what seemed like hours to Dan, at which Dan thought that he had given up on him, hung up because of Dan’s idiotic problems. And some part of Dan’s brain was chanting that this was good, that this would prevent Dan from harming Phil. It wouldn’t be all too surprising either if he had hung up to the brown-haired boy, as Dan was used to it and he almost wished he had never called, seeing with every second that he had only made a fool out of himself.

He was prepared to ask Phil to forgive him, to say that it was all nothing and wait for the inevitable feeling alone in his room as it came back worse than before. It wouldn’t be too long until Connor was sent to get him, Dan could see the sun setting deeper and deeper into the ground outside the glass.

His stomach tightened at the thought, yet he told himself it would be for the best, as he would have to face his elder sooner or later and that Phil thinking everything that he had said was stupid would definitely keep him from getting injured by Dan’s destructive life. He said to himself that it didn’t hurt that Phil probably thought it was all a joke (not even a little). It was for the best. After all he had faced far worse before, but no matter what his brain spit out, the pangs in his heart begrudgingly proved him otherwise. The sinking feeling in his chest was undeniable and every part of him seemed to know it wasn’t just from the nerves.

And Dan wanted to cry again as the phone line stayed silent, but he now knew that he had already shown enough weakness and he wasn’t about to show more, especially not to a person who was about to laugh and hang up. With every thought, Dan convinced himself, digging his dark hole until he couldn’t see the bottom. After this, Dan had a feeling that Phil would never contact him again, and he told himself that this was for the greater good. Phil didn’t need someone like himself holding him down. And as he had thought moments before, it was better to cut off all ties now.

Dan supplied himself with his own lies until he believed he was right, until his violent thoughts were satisfied and his fathers voice slowly came into view. Maybe he was weaker than he thought, he pondered as the aching hole that was growing in his chest hurt more than Dan wanted it to.

That was, until Phil finally spoke, and Dan became aware of that he may have been completely wrong the entire time. That, perhaps, Phil was taking his chances with the “promised” emotional and physical pain that seemed to follow Dan where ever he went.

“Alright.” He said to him, an emotion that Dan couldn’t identify underlining his voice, and Dan once again felt like he could cry. Although this time, the reasons were completely different. Was Phil actually going to help him?

“Meet me in 10 minutes, I’m texting you the address right now. It’s not too far from your house.”

Dan practically choked on his kindness, on the amazing human being Philip Lester truly was, and he nodded vigorously before realizing that Phil couldn’t see him.

“Phil?” he asked, his voice shaking. For a few seconds before, Dan was sure, he was wholly certain that the other boy didn’t want anything to do with him. Yet, what could Dan say? That was his own mind for him, forever twisting any good thoughts to bad. He should have expected as much. At the end of the day, he was related to David Howell.

“Yeah?” Phil said back and Dan blinked the moisture out of his eyes.

“Thank you.”

There was a pause on the other end before the genuine emotion in Phil’s voice rang out with his words.

“Anytime you need, Dan, anytime.”

The smile covering Dan’s face was brighter than it had ever been before as Phil spoke again.

“I’ll see you soon.” Phil said.

“See you.” Dan replied and hung up the phone, rushing to put on his shoes and coat to get out of the house.

Grabbing his phone and sliding it into his back pocket, he scanned his room in a quick motion, wondering if he would need anything else. Phil hadn’t made it sound like he would; yet Dan didn’t want to be underprepared. After grabbing his wallet, ostensibly satisfied with what he had, he opened his bedroom door, coming face to face with a pair of wide green eyes that jumped in surprise.

“Holy moly, you scared me!” Connor huffed, lowering his hand that was mid-knock only seconds ago. He frowned, crossing his arms, his cheeks red.

Dan had to crack a smile at a phrase like that. _Is that what all Americans say?_ He wondered, the laughter rising in his throat. He dimly realized these were the first words Connor had said to him since that horrible night.

The American boy dropped his act, grinning back at the prince, before he remembered why he was at his door in the first place. Any joy that was shown on Connor’s face was snuffed out like a candle as he studied Dan’s jaw, taking in the marks that were only visible to those who knew that they were there. He frowned once again, for real this time, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“I assume you know why I’m here…” He muttered and Dan’s humor dropped like a stone in water.

The fear that had been stirring in Dan’s entire being was making itself present again.

He nodded slowly to Connor, remembering every specific reason of why he couldn’t do this today, or any day for that matter, in the span of three seconds. Besides, Phil was waiting for him, yet his father requesting to see him wasn’t something that he actually had a choice in.

It wasn’t like he could just opt not to go, to just say no.

He needed out, he knew that, but was he willing to face the wrath of his father later on, when he called for him again, wondering why the hell his son wasn’t there when he asked for him?

But, Dan also knew that his mind was made up as soon as he had hung up the phone. That there was no chance in hell he would be going to his father willingly over Phil.

He stuttered over his reply to Connor, not exactly sure how things would work out for everyone in the long run.

“Connor I-“ Dan took a deep breath, making it his turn to avoid the gaze of the other boy.

“I can’t. I’m going. Leaving.”

Connor glanced upward, meeting the brown eyes staring back at him. “What?” His voice was soft, the tone almost proud as he looked at Dan in a new light.

“I’ll- I’ll be back tonight. Or maybe tomorrow.” Dan clarified. “I just- I can’t do it today, and I need you to do me a favor. Please.”

The prince’s eyes were wide, hopeful, his hands shaking as he combed them through his fringe in a nervous habit.

Connor nodded, the disgust for what would happen to Dan clear in his eyes. “Anything.” He said and Dan knew in these moments that he’d made some sort of friend out of the other boy. Even if that friendship was based upon a horrible secret.

“Tell my father that you couldn’t find me, that I was gone when you knocked on the door and left no clue as to where I was at.” Dan instructed, the gratitude visible in his voice. “He may get mad, possibly will throw something, so clear the fuck out of there as fast as you can.” He took a shaky breath.

Connor nodded again, determination shining in his eyes. “Alrightyroo,” he said. “Go in, drop the info, and get out. Shouldn’t be too hard.” He saluted, causing Dan to smile.

For the first time in a while, Dan felt happy, even if it was for a little bit. He was going to see Phil and he had finally found someone willing to help him without a price.

Dan felt like he was going to cloud nine in the process. He felt as if he could just skip down the hall in some sort of excitement.

And as his legs started to move away from the door (walking, not skipping, who did you honestly think he was?) he felt better and better. In truth, he would wheeze like a dying goose if he attempted to skip, giving him no point to try. Unless, of course, Phil asked, then he maybe, just maybe, he would be willing to sacrifice his dignity for the look on Phil’s face.

But, his mood plummeted for seeming the hundredth time today at the next words he heard.

“On one condition,” Connor’s voice dropped from joking to serious and Dan’s heart froze, all the happy thoughts he had gone. Just like that. How could he forget? How could he be so stupid? To let himself think that he and Connor were friends? Of course Connor would want something in return, that his next words had to be a catch. In every deal, every favor, there was always a catch. And Dan just let himself believe that maybe this time he had gotten lucky. But, luck and Dan Howell? Those two things never went together, in fact, they were as differing as something could get.

Connor took a deep breath, pulling out his own phone out of his pocket and holding out his contact list on it. “You call me if you need help.” He tapped his foot, gesturing with his hand for Dan to add his number into the device.

And Dan decided that today, he was underestimating everyone. That he was just completely wrong about people’s personalities. And that he really need more friends. Desperately. He had almost forgotten how to function in front of genuinely nice people.

He typed his number quickly, a grin on his face, his body itching to get out of the house.

“Thank you, Connor.” Dan said truthfully, handing the other boy his phone back. He wouldn’t have survived today if Connor hadn’t agreed to his request.

The green-eyed boy took it with a smile. “Just go, Mr. Empire State Building. I’ll distract your old man.”

The prince nodded in all seriousness, turning around and prepared to start going under his own steam again, before furrowing his eyebrows.

Mr. Empire State Building?

He shot Connor a confused glance, only earning himself a loud laugh and a slight shove to his shoulder.

“Google it, your highness.” The American boy smirked, before turning on his heels and walking in the direction of the king’s office. “It’s totally worth your time!” he called back as he got further down the hallway.

Dan shook his head, making a mental note to, indeed, Google what the Empire State Building was when he had the opportunity. Yet, as of right now, he had an address to get to. And nothing could be less important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you guys so much for reading this, comments and kudos make me the happiest person in the world. Please let me know what you thought!


	9. You saw him bathing on the roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you miss me? Dan meets Phil again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys well turns out I haven't fallen off the face of the earth! No, no I've just been extremely busy with high school and everything and i know that's not an excuse because how long has it been? Five months? I'm really really sorry and you can yell at me all you want down in the comments but here's some Dan and Phil for you all. This is for you, Chlo- Happy late Birthday!

Dan kept his head down as he walked past the random people on the street. It had become almost a habit, to keep his head down that was. After so many words, so many sentences that had been shouted at him screamed until his ears rang, the stretch of letters had been branded into his brain among the other hurtful things. The words flashed behind his eyes every time he blinked. They told him that he was nothing. That he was scum, equivalent to the dirt on the bottom of shoes. That he was so low to the bottom; he didn’t even deserve to look in the eyes of those above him. Which made that the reason why, behind camera, Dan Howell never looked up. All because of the menacing words that he would never forget, as much as he wanted to.

The sun had finally sunk into the ground, leaving traces of dying golden light on the world before the shadows swallowed the beams completely. Dan tried not to bump into anyone as he went on his way and cause the least amount of attention as possible. He didn’t want someone recognizing him, not tonight.

The air was cold again, and in Dan’s jumper it seemed to him that it was forming a cloud around him, reaching deep into his bones and settling in every crook of his scarred body. But, it wasn’t as if Dan minded. The frigid air seemed to clear the prince’s head, leaving no room for any thought besides _holy mother of fuck it’s cold._ Dan had long ago decided that he liked it better that way. The way free of shadows and darkness and hopelessness but simply only the thought of why had the universe made it so cold in late November? It was so much nicer than Dan’s mind on a regular basis.

The address that Phil had sent him was not a familiar one, although it was close by as promised. Before Dan had left, he spent a quick moment looking it up on Google maps to make sure that Phil wasn’t taking him to an abandoned warehouse and planning to kidnap him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t trusted Phil, just the fact that he had literally only known the guy for like a week. And seen too many TV shows.

After some searching on the Internet, he discovered and scoffed at Phil’s choice of getting Dan out of the house. Only one dork on the entire planet would choose the activity that they were going to, and he had the last name of Lester.

He continued to walk, occasionally checking the time on his phone and for new messages from Phil. So far, the other boy had been silent, not saying anything since their conversation on the phone. 

As Dan neared the meeting place, he glanced around, taking in the cozy feel of the area and the dark looking clouds that were rolling towards it in the distance. He vaguely wished that he had a hood or worn something a little warmer as he waited for Phil, but after being stuck in worse conditions, he convinced himself that he would be fine for five minutes.

Waiting for the blue-eyed boy to show up, Dan pulled out his phone, attempting to play a mindless game. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t last very long as his hands seemed to be in the process of turning to ice within the two minutes he spent trying to occupy time. He was then tempted to put in his earbuds and listen to music before deciding against that as well due to the fact it would make it extremely easy for someone to sneak up on him.

He, instead, inched closer to the doors of the building, settling on leaning alongside the wall of the structure and searching for Phil, allowing his eyes to scan the people in his surroundings for the first time today.

He watched people walk past the big entrance, paying no mind, laughing and joking with their friends and others holding hands with their love, looking as happy as a person could possibly be.

The brown-haired boy felt a mix of emotions rise up inside him, as he noticed a couple passionately kissing by the doors. He couldn’t deny the jealousy, the anger, the regret, or the sadness that had surfaced all at once. He wished that he could of done that with Cameron; he wanted to show the world what he was made of, to be able to kiss his boyfriend that passionately with no consequences to worry about.

All before it was too late.

Yet, everything that Dan seemed to do was too late.

He had been too late to bring things to an end before they went too far, too late to prevent his father from hurting Cameron, and too fucking late to stop him from dying.

_Too late._

That was basically the story of his life.

Thankfully, Dan’s eyes were too dry from the cold to start crying, otherwise he would of, and it would have been a sad, lonely sight to see. He wanted what that couple had. Desperately, horribly, more than anything in the entire world, he wanted love like that. He wanted to be free with love like that, to have it run through his veins like fire, to bring his world back to life. He wanted it to be okay. He sought to be able to kiss his future boyfriend and not have people consider it a sin and lock them away.

But that was the kind of stuff that only happened in fairy tales, in books, in stories, in places where happy endings were possible. Dan knew that at this rate, a happy ending seemed almost unfeasible, and his life definitely wasn’t one goddamn fairy tale, at least not one with a happy ending. No, if his life were ever to be considered a fairy tale, it was twisted, deformed, almost completely unrecognizable, and utterly sad. For Dan wanted the one thing that wasn’t possible, and the impossible wasn’t given to people like him. That was how he knew what his life was and wasn’t, because if it had been a fairy tale, who in their right mind would want to read something like that?

The boy shivered out of his thoughts and back into his black jumper, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets as a feeble attempt in making them warm again. The clock had just gone past the ten-minute mark and he debated with himself about sending Phil a text, asking where he was.

It was only when Dan had pulled out his phone to type the message did he see him. Black hair a ruffled mess, the sleeves of his blue jumper yanked way far down, Phil Lester was searching the small crowd of people for the reason he was even outside this cold night. In those moments, Dan wondered why Phil had done this much already. Why would someone, a person with a life, with so many better things he could probably doing, decide to meet the broken shell of a prince this freezing evening?

These new thoughts threatened to take over the boy’s head that was, until Phil smiled at him, chasing anything and everything out of his mind. That beautiful ‘even the sky isn’t the limit’ smile that Phil always managed to do, eyes twinkling and all, was aimed directly at him. Even the best liar wouldn’t have been able to deny the shot of happiness given from that one expression.

As Phil walked up to the king’s son Dan could feel his problems being pushed to the back of his skull, like a weight getting lifted off of his shoulders, and he focused on the present.

“Hi.” Phil said, stuffing his fists into his pockets, shivering from the cold.

Dan wanted to laugh at how awkward he sounded. In his mind he felt that he should be the one feeling awkward, not Phil.

Dan instead decided to go with the obvious response, letting out a quick “hey” before getting to the point.

“A bowling alley? Really Phil?”

Dan shook his head as he commented on the address that Phil had led him to, a smile played out on his lips.

Phil nodded sheepishly, blushing and sinking into the collar of his sweater. “You said anywhere…” he trailed with a smile. “And this place was one of my childhood favourites.” His eyes looked lost in something unknown and slightly painful.

Dan paused, thinking over the look on the other boy’s face. That was a look of untold pain. But why on earth would Phil Lester, possibly the happiest boy alive, ever need an escape?

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” An undertone of concern wavered through Phil’s voice at Dan’s silence, snapping Dan out of his thoughts once more.

"No, no, it’s just-“Dan shook his head, causing a smile of relief from Phil before he cut off his sentence with another question.

“Do you not like bowling or something?” His eyes gazed between his lashes at him, a confused look upon his face.

The boy took a deep intake of air, mentally preparing himself for how pathetic the next words out of his mouth would be.

“I’ve never been.”

Phil stopped; closing and opening his mouth like a fish out of water as he took in the sentence. “That’s impossible, you haven't been bowling? Everyone’s been bowling”

Dan avoided Phil’s eyes, looking out onto the street. “Nope, never had the time,” he murmured.

 _Wrong._ His mind said back to him. _You had plenty of time. You just didn’t want him to throw a fit of rage if you won._

“What kind of childhood did you have?” Phil commented a slight frown and a dreamy look upon his face.

Dan let out a painful smiled, thinking _a pretty shitty one, now that you ask._ Even before his dad had found out about his sexuality, his childhood hadn’t been all fun and games. After his mother died, there had been so many rules to follow, so many orders to do, it had been too much for an eight year old.

In fact, it was still too much for Dan. With all the responsibilities that were just for show because god knows that his father would never let his “diseased” hands touch the throne, Dan had to endure other various punishments.

The prince didn’t want the throne; he didn’t want his entire life. He wanted to run away until his legs gave out, until his past self was left staggering behind in the shadows, never to catch up with him again. He wanted to be so far away from people until the final silence of his mind screamed louder than his beating heart. Only then, would he be at peace. Surrounded by stars and mountains and oceans and anything and everything except his father, and his words.

Well, there was one person that he wouldn’t mind to join Dan’s island of serenity. The boy whose smile was slowly lighting the world. The one who found happiness in every little action. The blue eyes that would probably change the world, and sure as hell make it a better place.

“I had a childhood where I spent my days inside watching Winnie the pooh.” Dan finally said, as it was mostly true. He vaguely remembered the days he sat snuggled up on the couch next to his mother, watching his favorite show. On the contrary, what he did vividly recall was sitting on the couch by himself with only his pooh bear to keep him company, a blanket wrapped around his skinny arms, the slight fear of his father in the background of his mind, occasional tears falling down his face when he remembered his mum and their happy memories.

Hey, he had just said that it was a shitty childhood. It wasn’t as if he was lying.

“So you can thank Winnie for my extensive use of articulate words.” The brown haired boy pointed out, smiling for real just a little.

Phil smiled back. “I see.”

The other boy focused his attention on the structure behind Dan, taking in the bright lights and loud colors with a fond, childish grin etched upon his face. “Then, I guess there is only one thing to do then.”

“Go on.” Dan encouraged.

Phil smirked “It seems to me, that I will have the pleasure of teaching prince Howell how to bowl.” The childish smile was more present than ever.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Well if it isn’t my lucky night for continuous gutter balls.”

Phil attempted to look hurt, causing another chuckle to escape Dan’s mouth. “You haven’t even seen me play!” he protested.

“Oh god, should I be scared?” Dan teased, blinking innocently up at Phil.

Phil let out a sigh, shaking his head. "No wonder you’ve never been bowling. You’re impossible!”

“I try.”

The dry comment sent Phil into a spiral of laughter.

“Just shut up and make an effort to have some fun for once?” He finally choked out.

Dan crossed his arms. “You don't know me.” He smiled.

“Didn't take you for the “going outside and doing stuff” type. All you do is make Shrek puns all day. That sounds like just serious trolling and memes to me.”

“Embrace your true self Philly. Shrek is love, Shrek is life.”

“Dan, no.”

"Dan, yes."

A not so serious glare from Phil’s behalf.

“Aw, come on, don’t you think you’re OGREreacting a little bit?"

“Dan, please” Phil dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop making puns and attempt to go bowling but only because I think my ass is frozen and there is food inside. Deal?”

“Definitely.”

The two headed indoors, both sighing into the gust of warm air that hit them. After a short time of standing in line, they approached the desk to get shoes, as Dan was on a rant of “I don’t see why we need new ones, Phil. Is there something wrong with my shoes? Is it because they’re black? Why would they be racist about shoes?” and Phil just continued to smile and roll his eyes, walking ahead.

“Hi Louise!”  The grinning boy greeted the pretty blonde girl in front of him.

“Philip!” She exclaimed back just as happily. “It’s been so long.” Louise walked around the side of the counter to give the older boy a hug and launching into a conversation about her family.

As she had pulled away from the genuine hug, Dan had felt a twinge of jealousy watching the pair. Not only was Louise probably Phil’s girlfriend, not only did she also have a smile that could light up the world with one glance, she and Phil were clearly close friends, something that Dan had never been able to experience.

The not explainable sadness settled on Dan's shoulders as he realized that this night was going to be different from how he imagined. The reason why they were here dawned on Dan in those moments. When he had called Phil, Phil probably freaked out, not knowing what to do but not capable of leaving Dan in a time like this so he did the thing that would be easiest and less boring for him, taking him to the place where his girlfriend worked. It all made perfect sense now, after all who would want to hang out with the prince of England anyway? Especially when his father was so commonly hated.

The more Dan looked around, the sadder he realized his childhood was, as well as how sad his life actually is. He had missed out on so much, raised by hatred and neglect instead of love and kindness. Sure, maybe he wasn't the best person, and maybe he did deserve it, as his father constantly told him, but was his father always right?

And he had met Phil, that had to count for something, right? They don't send good people into a terrible person's life without a reason. Maybe this was the world’s way of showing that things would get better. Although, Dan wasn't sure how they could get any worse, his life was already pretty far down on the pyramid of great things. But now the boy had to take into account of Phil's girlfriend, and how things would change.

The sentence of  "Who's this?" brought Dan out of his thoughts and back to the present.

Louise between Dan and Phil, her eyebrows high and her mouth curved into a smile.

"This is Dan." Phil responded for him, introducing the other boy. Dan gave an awkward wave of his hand as a hello and Louise smiled back. “He’s never been bowling.” Phil added.

Louise looked shocked before her face formed into a warm smile. “I know just the thing” She walked into the back of the building, disappearing out of Dan’s sight.

When she was gone, Dan wondered how he was going to pull this off. _It can’t be that hard can it?_ Dan thought, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as the two boys waited for Louise.  Bowling wasn’t a complicated sport and he had played it on the Wii as a child, just never in real life. Still, that had to count for something.

So when Louise came back holding up a children’s bowling ramp, used to help little kids bowl, Dan scoffed.

“Awe Louise,” he addressed the girl, “you’re so thoughtful, how did you know Phil would need one of these?”

Louise bust out into a fit of giggles as Phil let out an amused “hey!” making the blonde-haired girl laugh harder.

“You’re the one who doesn’t know how to bowl!” Phil said in attempt to make a weak comeback.

“And yet still, it seems Louise has agreed by her laughter that I will be better than you.” Dan pointed out, glancing towards the girl hunched over with laughter.

“You are going down Danny boy.” Phil’s glare dissolved into a smile..

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Dan grinned back sweetly.

Louise intervened, finally catching her breath and letting out a “You can go pick a spot Phil, I’ll go get you and Dan some shoes.” before straightening up.

Dan leaned against the counter after giving his and Phil’s shoe size to Louise and watched her as she went behind it sorting through boxes upon boxes. After a few awkward seconds of silence, the now red-faced girl spoke up.

“I like you, Dan.” She commented, handing him a box without looking up. “You seem good for Phil.”

 _I’m quite the opposite actually._ His mind said for him as Dan let out a weak “really?” on the surface.

“Yes, really.” Louise actually looked at him this time, making his face flush bright red. “I won’t let just anyone hang out with my best friends.” She gave a motherly smile before handing the other box and pointing over to the bowling ball rack

“I reckon you have no idea what you’re in store for?” she asked, leaning towards him, making them side to side.

“If Kanye West can do it, so can I.” Dan responded, searching for Phil in the sea of people. He finally found him a few moments later, standing with a bowling ball, looking like a confused puppy.

“That’s the spirit,” she smiled fondly at him again. “Just become Kanye.”

“Kanye mode: engaged.” He smiled back, letting out a chuckle.

Maybe she could be right. Maybe Dan could be good for Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry again, you are all the best :)))


	10. His beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's going to meet the fam :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gosh guys its been so long i'm so sorry. alright alright remember when i had an update schedule? well i'm going to try to get back on it but the chapters are definitely going to be a lot shorter. but don't worry i'm not giving up on this fic i promise <3 have an amazing day.

That night was one of the best nights of Dan’s life. He didn’t think he had ever laughed harder, smiled wider. It was like a new kind of emotion was blossoming in his chest, a new feeling, and this wonderful thing- it made him feel alive again. More permanently.

Because now, it wasn’t just the moments he spent with Phil, the conversations he carried that made him feel alive.

This wasn’t like before.

No, now these emotions would carry over for Dan. They would last with him throughout the rest of the night, the day, the week.

They didn’t just disappear.

The feeling in his chest now grounded him. It gave him an anchor in his wild storm of a mind. It let him know that someone cared about him, about how he was, about what happened in his day. It reminded him that Phil was always just a phone call away if things got bad again, it implied that he would always be there for the other boy. At least for now, before Dan could manage to screw it up.

But, most importantly, it reminded him that he wasn’t  _ alone  _ anymore. That he did have at least one person out there, vouching for him to finish the race that never seemed to end. It told him to keep going, to not stop, to live just a little bit instead of only survive.

And Dan had to say- he definitely liked this new feeling. Liked it a hell of a lot.

So when the next time Dan’s father decided to have another talk and Dan wanted nothing more to  _ just stop existing _ , things became marginally easier because of Phil and the feeling he brought with him. The fear clamped around his brain subsided, the walls around him breaking as always, yet slower this time. It wasn’t a shattering, one second effect, if-you-had-blinked-you-would-have-missed-it kind of thing. It was slow, careful. Once crack in the glass at a time, spiraling outward like a spiderweb. Much more calm than the terrorizing impression his father had always made like a hammer full force.

His thoughts were the glass barricade and Phil was the diamonds lodged between. Breaking peacefully, yet breaking just the same.

And Dan thought, how did he even survive before? How did he function? How did he make it this long in the unfair fight against himself?

He didn’t have an answer, not one that made sense anyways.

Phil had become Dan’s anchor, his light in the sea of dark so to speak. And when Dan felt exhausted from everything around him, he was happy to go to Phil. He didn't have to pretend around Phil, never had to keep up his facade of cheerfulness, never had to be afraid to be himself.

Yet, that didn't mean there weren’t things that Dan hid from Phil. Hell, there were far too many to count. But these things were for his own protection, Phil’s own needs. If the blue-eyed boy had found out what goes on behind the closed doors of his house, Dan was sure he would never see Phil again. It was safer for him not to know, it gave him less of a chance of them getting caught and Phil getting hurt. Not that they were doing anything, but Dan, knowing his father completely, wouldn't hesitate at the chance to do something to hurt him. And if he had a cover up reason? Well, there was no stopping the vile man.

All of Dan’s secrets were a little hard to hide from Phil. He couldn't just explain the fact why he constantly wore his sweatshirt no matter where they were. He couldn’t say exactly why he didn’t want to go swimming when Phil had offered to go, forcing him to make the meek protests of “But it’s too cold” even though it was in an indoor pool.

He had gotten good at lying, despite his slip-ups. Lying and hiding, that was all he ever seemed to do. He could make up excuses on the spot or wiggle his way out of awkward questions at any time.

He wasn’t sure if Phil had ever noticed, seen the way he always kept his sleeves pulled down and his collar pushed up. He never asked why he always flinched when a hand was coming towards him or why he would constantly look over his shoulder to check if anyone was there. He just let it be, and was there for Dan when he needed him.

And that was why Dan liked Phil. Liked him a whole lot. Because Phil didn’t ask questions if Dan said no. Phil knew when to stop, when to drop it. And again, Dan wondered how he had survived without him before. All he knew for sure was that he was going to try to keep him in his life as long as possible.

It had been a good day for Dan when Phil had called. He had had no surprise visits from his father and his old wounds were pretty much healed, something he was very grateful for. When the other boy had called, it had put a now more familiar smile on his face.

“What’s up Danny boy?” Were the first words out of his mouth.

“Philllllll,” Dan groaned. “What did I say?”

“Fine, fine. I’ll get straight to the point. So I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night? My parents have been literally dying to meet you and they haven't stopped bugging me about inviting you over since. So I thought, why not give the people what they want?”

Dan’s heart turned over in his chest. Phil had told about him to his parents? And they wanted to meet him? “Tomorrow night?” he echoed, his mind blanking out.

“Yeah, we’re making pasta. Is six okay?”

“Six?” Dan echoed again, time was moving much too fast for him.

He made a vague attempt to sit down for a moment and understand it all. Phil had told his parents about him (why wouldn't he?) and now they wanted to see him?

He couldn’t imagine Phil sitting down at a kitchen table, his mum and dad listening intently to what their son was saying as he told them about how he had met the prince.

And now Dan realized that they probably would hate him, just as Phil had when he met him. He would walk in and they would glare at him until every sin his father had committed would become his own. They would ask the wrong questions too, questions Dan couldn’t answer, questions Dan couldn’t even think about without having to excuse himself.

Why, oh why had Phil thought this was a good idea? Because now, Dan couldn’t say no, he couldn’t just refuse because that would be unfair to Phil. If he refused or said he was busy, Phil would just ask for another day, and Dan couldn’t put it off forever. If he flat out said no Phil might think that there is something wrong with him and Dan sure as hell didn’t want that. He wanted to keep the only friendship he had intact, thank you.

Yet again, he didn’t want to say yes. He didn’t want to have to suffer through hours of torturous glares. He already got enough of those for a lifetime. So Dan was stuck. Stuck in a situation where both outcomes would be bad, and he had no idea what to do.

“Yeah, six. Do you have something planned?” Phil’s voice cut back into his thoughts.

Now, Dan was panicking. The ever present yes or no question was there and he didn’t want to ask to see or think about it because then that would be rude. So he was trapped even more and his thoughts were spiraling down rapidly fast.

_ You can’t lie.  _ One side of him told him, annoyingly persistent.

_ But you do it all the time? Why would this be any different?  _ The otherside pointed out, having a point. He was a good liar after all that he had been through.

It would be so easy, to just say yes, he did have something planned and he couldn’t talk right now and that “maybe we should try next week?”. He could totally provide excuses for the next couple of months, seemingly convincing ones too, and roll with it until Phil stopped asking.

It was so easy to lie for Dan, it was actually kind of scary. He could probably do it in his sleep.

But, this was Phil, Dan was talking to. This was the Phil that had done things for him full heartedly, this was his first real friend in a while, this was the guy that respected his privacy and didn't ask questions. This was Phil who made him feel safe.

And Dan so didn't want to lie to him.

Dan guessed his mind was made up from the start.

“No, I don’t. Six is perfect and pasta sounds amazing.” He said, a slight grin creeping onto his face because hey, even if the parents were trying to murder him with their minds, he would at least get to spend some time with Phil right?

“Yay! Well, I’ve got to go- mum’s yelling at me to do something,” The distant shouting in the receiver proved his sentence true.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dan.” The brown haired boy could hear the smile in the others voice.

He couldn’t help but smile back. “See you.” he said before the line went dead, leaving Dan to wonder by himself how exactly he was going to pull this off.

  
Needless to say, Dan was more than a little bit nervous at four pm the next evening. His thoughts were a mess, his mind a trainwreck as he tried to prepare to meet his only friend’s parents.

His closet was a mess, black items of clothing strewn about on the floor.

He didn't want to be too proper and yet not too casual either. Everything he was throwing out was too depressing for him, all black outfits that would make Phil’s parents think he smoked weed and just got back from beating up innocent children. As if Dan could throw a punch. It wasn't like the various bruises from his father helped either.

He sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, feeling like a stereotypical teenage girl. He literally had nothing to wear.

He half debated calling Phil up to ask him, wondering if it was worth losing his dignity just to wear the right clothing. He knew that Phil would be in something that reflected his personality nicely, making Dan wonder if he should just wear all black to reflect the color of his soul.

It wasn’t a bad idea. After all, that was pretty much his entire closet.

After some long minutes of searching through the mass of clothing, Dan finally decided on a black button down shirt and some dark blue (not black!) skinny jeans before going to straighten his hair.

He almost wished that he had some kind of parenting advice on this. Too bad he didn’t have anyone to go to. Although, he supposed, he could go to Connor.

Yet, would that be any less pathetic than calling Phil? Probably not.

So, instead, the prince left it up to himself and his own judgement to deem him presentable. About an hour and a half later, he finally had.

If Dan thought he couldn’t get anymore nervous tonight, he was wrong. The Dan Howell standing on Phil’s doorstep had faded out of existence, replaced with a bundle of nerves that he couldn’t even explain. It’s not like he was going on a date for god’s sake.

And yet, there he is, on the verge of what maybe was a panic attack because he was meeting his friend’s parents (parents!!). He shifts the flowers, yellow tulips, around in his hand.

_ Was this too much?  _ He wondered.  _ Did I go too far? _

They were for Phil’s mum, of course. If there was one thing that Dan did remember about his own mum it was the fact that she had loved flowers, telling little eight year old Dan that ‘If  you ever want to get on a woman's good side, flowers will do the trick.’ And Dan had thought, why not give it a go? But no matter what he gave Phil’s parents one thought stuck with him.

_ What if they don’t like you, for you? _

It had been playing in his mind like a broken record since Phil had called. He just couldn’t get it to shut up.

There was a million and one ways how the night could go wrong and Dan’s been through all of them in his head, his mind wrapping and revolving around them. He just wanted to get this right. Was that too much to ask?

He smoothed out his shirt for the countless time and cleared his dry throat, a feeble attempt to calm the storm of butterflies in his stomach. Except these were less like butterflies and more like bees. They stung. He swallowed hard, summoning the courage to ring the bell.

The clock read six o'clock, sharp.

He pretended not to notice how badly his hand is shaking as he reached for the chime, moving the flowers in his sweaty hand once again. And before he knew it, he had done it, the sound had rung out and the show had begun.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos! They make my day everyday time!


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